Age of the Damned
by SharkAttack719
Summary: Once known as the Everlasting Hero, Percy commences his last step in destroying the last Roman legions once and for all. His revenge on Apollo and Ares is almost complete. But as the puzzle pieces begin to settle, his past unravels. Victory always comes with a cost. And this time it might be too much to bear. References to 'Everlasting Hero', see preface inside. Rating T/M.
1. Preface

**Preface**

Hi all! If you stumbled across this story on the main page, there might be some things you're confused about. Yes, this is actually the third installment of the 'Everlasting Hero' series. To save you from the painstaking task of actually reading the five-year-old, poorly-written (even worse than my current writing, if that's even possible) 'Book 1' and 'Book 2'. So I've summarized them below for you, including extra details of anything that has changed slightly.

_Everlasting Hero: The Argonauts_

As a ten-year-old boy, Percy is first thrust into action when Jason sets off on his journey to find the Golden Fleece. Both of them, as pupils of Chiron, start off with a strong bond. Percy, more than most demigods, is able to channel his powers quite deeply and is particularly skilled at combat. The Argo sets off with a variety of famous Argonauts, and Percy becomes quite close to some of them, including Theseus, Atalanta, Periclymenus, Peleus, Castor and Polydeuces, and the Boreads. Percy does find himself attracted to Atalanta, but their relationship remains platonic. He even receives a gift from Heracles, the sword Anaklusmos, before Heracles leaves the quest. Later, Percy tampers with the sword and has it infused with mortal metals so that he is able to harm both worlds.

Two years pass before they reach Colchis, unlike the myths where the voyage lasts only a few months. But _like _the myths, Medea helps Jason with his task for the king. Meanwhile, Percy ends up leading the charge to steal the Fleece, and kills the Colchian drakon. He's grown incredibly strong, to the point that now he's the 'talk of the town'. It is also at this point where Percy and Jason begin to drift apart.

During this journey, Atalanta trains Percy in the art of archery. She mentions that while hunters fall under Artemis' protection, there is no official group that directly serve the goddess. Percy begins to formulate an idea: if he can find someone who is willing, he can start the 'Hunters of Artemis.' He begins to have dreams of the Hesperides.

After successfully navigating their way out of the grasp of the Colchians, down past the Sirens and Scylla and Charybdis, they get blown to Libya. In their journey out, Percy finds himself near the mountains where the Hesperides reside. He's drawn to the area and finds a defeated Zoë and brings her back with him to the ship. With a little help from Triton, the Argonauts finally sail back home to a seemingly happy ending.

But Jason and Medea had already begun to drift apart despite their marriage. Six months after the Argo returned from its journey, Percy finds out Jason abandoned Medea for a princess named Creusa for his plan to take back the throne of Iolcus. Percy curses Jason for betraying her trust, but feels conflicted about his anger. Zoë, who has accompanied Percy, assures him he will be fine. He swears an oath to the River Styx to never treat women the way Jason and Heracles did.

These values are put to the test when they join the hunt for the Calydonian Boar. Percy learns Theseus abandoned Ariadne. Both he and Zoë feel conflicted, especially since he shows them remorse to the point where he is willing to end his own life. During the hunt, Zoë is injured badly, and their relationship develops. Both of them grow feelings for each other, though they start small.

The two begin their journey to get to Olympus, first by tracking down the manticore, tricking the gorgons into falling for their trap, then by attacking Lamia in the dead of night. Percy gains new items, such as a copy of Aegis and the Infinity Pouch, which can hold a seemingly infinite volume of items inside it. It is also during this period that they fall in love and share their first kiss. They spend a total of three years together.

But in the end, none of that matters. Zoë ends up being the first lieutenant of the Hunters, and Percy learns he's a descendant of Athena and is vouched for to be an immortal hero, to the same degree as the Hunters. And so begins his journey as the 'Everlasting Hero.'

* * *

_Everlasting Hero: The Golden Blade_

Years after his initial journey, Percy accompanies his pupil, Achilles, to a war council hosted in Mycenae by Agamemnon. Helen of Sparta has been taken by the Trojans, and the pact between her old suitors is put into action. Percy, in the time since his inauguration as the Everlasting Hero, has made an oath to serve and protect 'Greece' and her honour and dislikes Helen's betrayal of it all.

Percy goes to learn of a prophecy that foretells the fall of Mycenaean Greece, the changing of the gods' forms, and the impact on his own life. The two oaths he made — one promising to treat women better than Jason and Heracles, the other to protecting Greece — becomes a major conflict for him as he wonders which oath he'd forego. He begins to wonder of the true powers behind the war, but proceeds as planned by Agamemnon.

When they first reach the shores of Troy, there is a quick skirmish where Briseis is captured. Percy, still having never truly been in war, fantasizes of being the hero he thinks he should be. He demands that the Myrmidons, including Achilles, treat captives and females as equally as they would men and boys.

Eventually, Percy rescues Cassandra, a Trojan princess, from captivity by the main Greek camp, and attempts to return her to the Trojans. Unfortunately, due to her curse, they don't accept her back, and Percy is forced to take her into the Myrmidon camp with her cousin Briseis.

After the diplomatic envoy is unsuccessful at bringing Helen back to Greek hands, Paris challenges Menelaus to a duel. During the duel, Menelaus wins, but before Paris can be killed, Aphrodite whisks him away to safety. As a result, the Trojan War truly begins, and the nine-year siege starts.

Over the nine years, Percy and Cassandra come to enjoy each other's company. Physically, they are attracted to each other and sometimes sleep together for what Cassandra calls 'stress relief.' Achilles, in a conversation a little while later, reveals that Cassandra has actually fallen for Percy, as he essentially let her do as she pleased and is one of the few that isn't affected by her curse.

Similar to the Iliad, in the ninth year, Agamemnon takes Briseis away from Achilles, which causes him to withdraw from the war. For a while, this works. In the skirmish on the fateful night, Percy is stabbed in the back by Aeneas, and only survives because he is close to the sea. At that moment, Patroclus pretends to be Achilles, riding out into battle, and is killed in the ensuing fight. Learning of his cousin's death, Achilles vows revenge.

Achilles becomes more and more bloodthirsty, to the point where he even lashes out at Briseis. He slaughters Anchises, Aeneas' father, after his right-hand man Eudoros was killed and plays with the dead body. Percy tries to calm him down, but realizes there's nothing he can do to contain Achilles' rage. He also accepts the fact that he is not really any better than a murderous monster after all the terrible things he's done in the war.

Like in the myths, Hector finally agrees to duel Achilles, and loses in a valiant effort. Achilles drags his body and defaces it instead of giving it back to the Trojans to mourn. Percy then joins the operation to get Achilles to return Hector's body to Priam, king of Troy.

But just when things seem to be trending in the right direction, Apollo kills Achilles. While he suspected it all along, Percy finds himself unable to hold back his grief. He unleashes all the power he'd trained and tested over the years, becoming a whirlwind just as deadly as Achilles, but nowhere near as invulnerable.

Knowing Troy is fated to fall, Percy takes part in constructing the large wooden horse to infiltrate the city. As they build it, he learns Briseis fled after Achilles' death, and the life around Percy begins to crumble. After invading the city and killing Helen, he suddenly realizes the terrible things going on around him. As the Greeks burn the temples to the gods, the choice becomes clear: Percy will betray the oath to Greece.

Percy saves Aeneas and ensures a small contingent of Trojans escapes. In the process, he turns into a machine and kills anyone who stands in his way, Greek or Trojan. Knowing he's done something unforgivable, he tries to commit suicide, but Zoë and the Hunters arrive and save his life, fulfilling the prophecy. It's not his time to fall yet. It is here that it is confirmed Percy still has feelings for Zoë, even more so than the ones he developed for Cassandra.

In the aftermath of the war, Percy follows all the survivors of the Trojan War and ensures their lives move on as fated. He helps Odysseus return home and steals the golden blade of Troy from Aeneas. He watches Cassandra be killed by Agamemnon's wife and lover before avenging her.

After some thirty-ish years, the prophecy is finally fulfilled when Apollo, Ares and Aphrodite frame him for raping Aphrodite in Zeus' temple. Percy doesn't help his case by talking back to Zeus in anger. Zeus raises his bolt to smite him and he is only able to escape with the help of half the Council, plus Hestia.

Percy is forced into exile and is furious, planning for the day that he would return to destroy Apollo and Ares and everything they stood for.

And there you have it. The summaries of my previous two books. I hope you enjoy this next installment!


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

Percy stared at the body at his feet.

He remained motionless as the blood pooled around the dead man's body. There was a deep gash across his throat where Percy had cut him. Percy couldn't help but snicker. At least he'd died a painless death. There were a thousand other ways Percy could have made it worse for him.

There was a soft rustle behind him as the centaur approached.

Percy didn't turn around. He didn't need to see to recognize the creature that had appeared. The sound was almost nostalgic.

"It's been a long time, my boy," Chiron said quietly.

"Seems so, doesn't it?" Percy turned to face the centaur with a hard look. "I guess it's true now. The _Everlasting Hero_ is back."

Chiron looked down at the bodies that lay strewn across the ground. One was missing a head. Several were dismembered. The one thing they all had in common was that they were Roman legacies. Chiron hadn't been told much by Lupa, but the one thing he knew for sure was that the mark of Rome—those etchings in their arms—was imprinted on the arms of the fallen. A daughter or legacy of Neptune leaned against the tree, a dagger impaled in one eye and the other open in surprise.

"Do not tread down this path," Chiron warned. He grimaced as he looked at a man who had been impaled by a tree branch. No doubt the dryad would fear and hate Percy. "This is a dangerous line you are walking."

"Does it matter?" Percy asked, raising his eyebrows.

Chiron watched his old student curiously. He hadn't expected Percy to be so… cold.

"Do you truly believe this path will right the wrongs committed in the past?" Chiron questioned his old student. "Do you truly believe that this is the way?"

Percy looked at him coolly. "And what of _your _students? Don't tell me you don't feel any heartache knowing that we pit ourselves against each other now. Why fight the Persians? They aren't our enemies. Have they forgotten what really destroyed Mycenaean Achaea? The Trojans did this. The descendants of Aeneas grew Rome into a budding power. You know more than anyone else that the Roman way protects all… that _our_ way lets us perish before we reach our peak years. No longer… I will make sure Rome will never crush the Greeks. Greece is the homeland. And it shall always remain that way."

"You were the ones that helped the Trojans," Chiron pointed out. "You saved them from utter destruction. You saved Aeneas."

Percy reached into his Infinity Pouch and produced the Golden Sword of Troy. He held the point of the blade to Chiron's neck. "I stole this from the Trojans. _This_ was their symbol. Even now their weapons are the golden blades that the Trojans once wielded."

"I understand your anger, but if we remain positive—"

"Positivity?" Percy laughed. "You think you can lecture about positivity? I was disgraced and turned away from this world, Chiron. The gods expelled me because of Apollo's dirty trick. I will not sit back and let myself be beaten down. That is not who I am!"

Chiron tried to keep the situation under control. "Percy, you are the Everlasting Hero. A child of Poseidon and a descendant of Athena. You are meant to be powerful and wise."

"I'm not an automaton," Percy snarled. "I am a human. And, to a human, emotions that are strong will always triumph over reason, no matter what kind they may be. I am not a god. But I _am_ a hero. Was Heracles stripped of his title of hero after murdering his first family? I don't think so. Was Jason stripped of his title after abandoning Medea? What about Theseus? Achilles? These are all men who had faults, who were selfish and cruel to those they despised."

"Perseus—"

Percy's eyes flared, and for the first time, Chiron saw what Percy experienced over the past few centuries.

Endless nights in a never-ending desert, almost dying of thirst. Climbing up the steppes and desert hills in the east, the peaks stretching out far into the horizon. Finally coming to a river, hoping for a drink, but attacked by an array of monsters Chiron had never seen before… attacked by bandits of foreigners. Scaling cliffs of mountains, far above the land where any misstep spelled doom and death. Finally emerging, after decades of travel at an ocean in the Far East, near a village of shorter, tanned peoples. The travel north through a kingdom that called itself Zhou up to the horse nomads in the steppes. More desert. More thirst. More hunger. More raids. More death.

Percy had witnessed the sack of a village in the east, unable to do anything without water nearby. He'd watched as the village burned, the girls raped and the men executed. He'd watched as the nomads fought amongst each other, fighting each other in duels and in warfare. He'd stood in a field of dead horses, men, women and children, wondering where all the humanity had gone.

Percy stepped foot back in Colchis, which had been razed to the ground by neighbouring tribes. It was rebuilt to its former glory, but there was something amiss. It wasn't the same Colchis it had been before.

Time passed, and Percy arrived back in Greece, only to find that things had changed. No longer was it Mycenaean Greece. The Greece he knew had been destroyed after he left. It was the Archaic period, as the Greeks rose from the Dark Ages and were restored to their former glory. But the stories of the gods were but myths… tales that mortals chose to believe or not to believe. It was the reign of the mortals, and demigods had all been wiped out of society.

Chiron saw Aphrodite come to apologize to Percy, and Percy accepting it. He saw Percy prepare and strike back at Apollo, wounding him yet again.

And in all this, Percy had changed. He'd left scared and tired and angry. But he'd returned cold, ferocious and destructive. This was the side of Percy that Chiron always feared would emerge. After all, there was no child of Poseidon without a dark side.

"What would you have me do?" Percy said coldly.

Chiron snapped back to attention. "Save the Greeks. Do not destroy the Romans. This is about Apollo and Ares, not about the Romans."

"Jupiter, Juno, Mars and Apollo," he growled. "These are the gods the Trojans revere. Save for Juno, these are the gods that ruined me… destroyed what little I had left after Achilles died. I _saved_ their heroes, and they repaid me by obliterating what remained of me. If the Romans are the pride of those three, then I will tear them down… brick by brick. I will make each and every one of them suffer for them to watch." He tore the dagger out of the girl's eye and slammed it into the tree, making the dryad pop out and scream. He shot her a death glare, sending her running for her life. "No matter the cost."

"Percy…" Chiron looked at him sadly. "Will you die a hero? Or will you be as I expected? Will you be long enough for this world to become its greatest villain?"

Percy looked down and clenched his jaw. The old Percy would've broken down. He would've either cried or given up. He would've changed his mind and set a path to the right. He would've torn himself down to become better for the sake of humanity. He would sacrifice his own well-being to stop what was wrong.

But his fatal flaw was damning.

If he truly believed he knew what was best for everyone around him, he would be a threat to all of humanity. If he truly believed he had the right to control fate…

Percy looked up and set his jaw. He gave Chiron a cool, level stare. "'_One man's hero is another man's villain_.' In the end, Chiron, I will save what is most important."

Chiron saw a mirage of terrifying images Percy's eyes.

A city on fire, much like Troy, legions marching through and slaughtering men like pigs. Women and children were split from each other, young boys either killed or forced to kill their own friends and family. Girls abducted, smothered by lust-filled soldiers.

A volcano erupted, an earth-shattering explosion, sending an enormous ripple of sound hurtling through the air. A deadly cloud of volcanic gas, stones, ash and fumes rose to a tremendous height, hanging in the air for what seemed like an eternity. The sky darkened as the plume of smoke encapsulated the world. And then, like a rolling wave, fire and debris rushed down the side of the volcano toward a city. It began to rain ash, and as people tried to run from their lives, they ultimately perished. Some suffocated in the sulphuric, toxic air. Those near the sea drowned. Some were crushed by fallen buildings. But most were killed when the landslide of rocks and fire slammed into the city.

On Crete, an enormous wave rose. From above, Chiron watched as the ocean slammed into the shore, submerging everything in its path. Thousands of lives were crushed in an instant in a chain of mass destruction.

Chiron's tail swished from side to side nervously. "And what is most important?"

Percy stowed the golden blade away and grabbed the clip from his hair. The bronze sword that elongated from the clip cast a deadly shadow over the fallen victim at his feet. The half-bronze, half-Celestial bronze sword was stained with blood. Percy caressed the blade with his fingers, drawing blood as he made a shallow cut across his left palm. He looked up and challenged Chiron with poisonous eyes.

"Me."

* * *

**This is pretty much the, if not exact, same prologue that I used in an older version of the story that I posted on the site. It was called 'Into the Darkness' or something like that, but I took it down. As a note, I haven't been active for a long time on this site, and you'd probably expect someone like three or four years older to be better at writing, but no. I'm still pretty bad.**

**In any case, this is a T/M rating story. There are parts that are pretty dark, but I think it lends itself to the story.**

**For the longest time, I've had a huge writer's block. I haven't posted anything in ages, and a lot of this story was actually built up from February 2017 to May 2018, but I could never find it in myself to publish anything. The biggest reason why I'm posting it now is because the whole plot exists in writing. It's just a matter of filling in the details. I really hope I can actually finish this story. No promises.**


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Circa 545 CE_  
_Justinian Dynasty_  
_Thebes, Achaea_

"Xanthe! Shall we go out to shop?"

The excited ten-year-old cheered as she bolted out of her room. "Yes, Mother! I'm coming!"

"Florian!" her mother called. "Come out with us!"

"Yes, Mother," a much less excited voice said.

Xanthe grabbed her bag and slipped into her boots. Her mother was waiting at the entrance with a warm smile. The two of them waited for Florian to come out. Xanthe was able to finish humming a song before her brother appeared, looking slightly disgruntled.

"Let's go!" Mother said.

As they walked, Mother began asking Florian questions.

"How long are you going to step away from your job? Did you get proper permission? You weren't released, were you?"

"Mother, I already told you! I have one calendar week off. I'm going back soon."

"Do you get to fight the bad guys?" Xanthe asked.

Florian looked down at her. "Of course! I'm actually off to Italia. I get to fight under General Belisarius. We're moving north up to Ravenna. If all goes well, we should have control of the city by the end of the year."

"Sounds exciting!" she grinned. "I wish I could fight."

"Women aren't supposed to fight," Florian said, waving her off. "You would be easily overpowered by any man you encounter on the battlefield."

Xanthe frowned. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fair," he shot back.

They continued to bicker as they made their way to the market. They followed their mother as she went through to purchase a few items.

Of course, they couldn't afford much. They weren't a particularly wealthy family. In fact, if one didn't include slaves, they were of the poorest class in society. While Florian was in the army, their mother was just a simple artisan. Even if she was one of the very few artisans who knew how to work with a new product called silk, people often looked down on her.

Perhaps it was because she didn't have a husband yet had two children.

She was notoriously known as...

"That stupid whore," one of the women in a stall behind her muttered. The woman sneered at their mother behind her back. "Insolent woman. How dare she have children out of wedlock? And they still treat her like she has a place in this society."

"There are rumors that some of those who support her are _pagans_," her partner said. "Disgusting."

"And twice, she did it," the woman said, clucking her tongue in disapproval. "Anyone can see that her children don't look the slightest bit like each other."

Xanthe glanced at Florian.

It was true. When they stood side-by-side in front of a mirror, Xanthe couldn't find any physical similarities between them. He looked mixed: pale skin, light brown hair, sharp nose, dark eyes. She, on the other hand, looked local. Dark hair, darker skin, and odd sea-green eyes. Mother looked more like Florian.

"Poor children," the woman said. "They'll have to live with that stigma for the rest of their lives."

"Let's go," Florian said suddenly, grabbing Xanthe's arm and yanking her forward.

"Why do they say mean things like that?" Xanthe grumbled.

Florian shook his head in disgust. "People are just like that in this world, Xanthe. You're going to have to get used to it. Especially women. They have nothing better to do so they just gossip and talk about others behind their backs. It's utterly sickening."

"But Mother having children out of wedlock..." Xanthe looked up at her brother. "That's bad isn't it?"

"Yes, according to Christianity," he confirmed. He turned to her. "But not to us. We're different."

"Different?"

Florian nodded. "I'm actually a descendant of—"

"Florian!" Mother called from down the street. "Xanthe! Where are you?"

He caught himself and gritted his teeth, annoyed. "Over here!"

Their mother jogged over, wearing her patented smile. "There you two are! I almost thought I had lost you. I've finished up everything I need to do. Is there anything either of you need?"

"No, it's fine," Florian said.

Mother turned to Xanthe. Xanthe glanced at Florian, who looked almost angry. She turned back to Mother and shook her head, "I don't need anything, Mother."

"Very well."

Xanthe kept a close eye on Florian as they walked back.

She could tell something was wrong. Ever since he'd joined the army, he'd become more distant. She still remembered when they were young, when he'd practically taken care of her while their mother worked. Back then, she looked up to him as almost a fatherly figure. He was much older than her; Mother had had him at a younger age. But their differences only became clearer the older they got.

Neither of them were like their mother with regard to personality. Their mother was a pacifist and disliked aggression. She preferred obeying the rules rather than enforcing them. She was a person who wanted nothing but to get on with her life with as little trouble as possible. At least, it often seemed that way.

Florian, on the other hand, was strong-headed and authoritative. He cared greatly about his future, serving Rome, and enforced the law as if he was the emperor. He was strict, patient and orderly. He tended to analyze and advance on issues methodically.

Xanthe was similar in some ways. She was strong-headed and had some violent tendencies. But she wasn't authoritative. She was a free spirit. Free-flowing, disorganized and impulsive, with a little touch of insanity. Xanthe may have only been ten, but she knew enough to recognize that both children were like their fathers.

In addition, Xanthe knew she wasn't a normal child.

Unlike Florian, whose life was straight-forward and typical for a lower-class male, Xanthe had been involved in some weird incidents when she was younger.

They had once travelled to the ocean in Athens, and Xanthe remembered playing with another girl. They went to the docks and played while their mothers and elder brothers negotiated with fishermen about the price of the fresh batch. Somehow, although she didn't remember exactly what happened, she and the girl had fallen into the water and drowned.

Well, technically, only the other girl had drowned. Xanthe remembered how everything went black. But, as she grew older and learned that humans couldn't breathe in water, she wondered why she never felt like she was suffocating back then.

Another time, when they were transported on a boat that was travelling from Athens to Constantinople, sharks swarmed the boat. While the crew panicked, trying to get the sharks away, Xanthe thought she heard voices coming from the water. She remembered Florian panicking, but her mother remained calm and collected.

She remembered her mother telling her, "Just tell them to go away, Xanthe. Tell them not to scare us anymore. We are off to the capital of the Empire."

"Go away," she had repeated.

And the sharks went away.

They arrived back home after their little shopping trip, and Mother announced that she would head to her room to rest. That left Florian and Xanthe alone in the main area.

With a resigned sigh, Florian went to go pick up his army equipment. He grabbed a couple of stones, a bucket of water, and sat down on the ground, beginning to sharpen his sword. Xanthe slowly approached and sat across from him, watching as he worked on the iron blade.

They sat like that for a while. Florian sharpening his sword, and Xanthe carefully watching him.

Xanthe wondered what it would be like to hold a sword. She'd only ever held a knife, and even then, her mother had been quick to chastise her for holding such a dangerous weapon.

"Blades kill," she muttered, echoing her mother's words.

Florian stopped and looked up. "Of course blades kill. Otherwise there wouldn't be much purpose for them, would there?"

"Have you killed anyone in battle?" she asked.

Florian looked down and nodded. "Yes, I have. More than I can count on my two hands."

"How... how does it feel to kill another person?"

For a moment, he sat there motionless. But he suddenly continued sharpening his sword. Not once did he look up at her. "You pretend that the person on the other side of the sword is a monster in the shape of a human. That's really the only way to deal with it. Unless, of course, you're a monster yourself. Then you can imagine the person on the other end is a human. You tell yourself that the man in front of you will kill you so that he can survive, so what you have to do to survive is to kill him first. Whoever has more will to survive wins that fight."

There was another moment of silence.

"That sounds scary," Xanthe murmured.

Florian nodded. "You see why I want to protect you from all the fighting?"

"I know," she said. "Girls aren't allowed to fight anyway."

He watched her sadly for a moment. "I know I'm not around as often because I'm in the army. Yes, I've been distant. I understand that, but I promise you that it was for a reason. I needed to find out what Mother has been hiding from us about our fathers... about why she endures all of this... torture."

"Hiding...?" Xanthe looked at her brother with new-found interest.

"I remember when your father came," he told her. "I knew immediately... somehow in my gut... that he was a god. And not the Christian god. You can find old myths about the pagan gods around, and while the Empire is a Christian empire, there are still those who believe in the old ways. He looked just like you, Xanthe. There's no doubt now, after what I've learned, that you're the daughter of Neptune... the sea god."

The name sounded foreign to Xanthe. Everything about it screamed _Danger!_

"But I was surprised... How could I look at him and suddenly think that?" Florian suddenly stopped and watched the hallway. When only silence followed, he continued with his story. "How on Terra could I have suddenly thought... 'Oh! That's a god!' So I suspected that I was a child of the gods too."

"Wait!" Xanthe tried to comprehend. "What is this about... gods? I thought... I thought there was only one."

Florian's face fell for a moment before it morphed into anger. "I _knew_ taking you to church was a bad idea. Mother should never have blinded you. The monsters have already started coming... big ones. If you don't join the legion soon..."

_Legion?_ Xanthe furrowed her brows. _What are legions?_

He looked up and saw her expression. "Ah, right. You probably don't know. Legions are what armies used to made of. Back in the old days, foot soldiers were used more than cavalry. When Rome was a powerhouse in the world, the legions were indestructible. Back then, no one had figured out Rome's weaknesses. Of course, things in the mortal world change. But against monsters... against our true enemies... the Roman legions are undefeatable."

"They sound strong," she noted.

He grinned. "The legions are the whole reason Rome rose to become a major power in the first place." Then his grin faltered. "The Greeks were the reason Rome fell. They colluded with barbarians to tear down Western Rome, adopted Christianity and blended with the mortals. That's why Eastern Rome still stands. But I think I finally found our calling, Xanthe. I found my father. He's a leader of Legio XI."

"Legio... XI?" Xanthe believed every word Florian said. Even if it took a few moments, the idea that old pagan gods existing didn't surprise her very much. Somehow, she figured it was probably why she didn't drown that day... why telling the sharks to leave made them leave. But who was Neptune? And why did that name send chills up her spine? "What is that?"

"There are four legions left," he explained. "Well, technically three legions are left. One is a subunit of another. All of them were summoned by Caesar. The Eleventh, Twelfth, Thirteenth and Fourteenth Legions. Claudia, Fulminata and the two Gemina Legions. I'm a part of Claudia. Right now, only the Eleventh, Thirteenth and Fourteenth are nearby. The Twelfth was shattered by an Ostrogothic attack a few years ago, and they fled to Frankia."

"It's hard to remember all of this," she frowned.

He gave her a soft look. "I know. I'm telling you a lot at once. But believe me, Xanthe. After I come back from Italia, I'll bring you to the legion. You're getting to the age when monsters attack."

"Wait... wait..." Xanthe put her hands up to stop him. "Okay, I'm confused. You said you thought your father was a god. Then you said you found him. Then you're saying monsters attack, but I've never seen monsters attack you."

Florian slumped guiltily. "I'm sorry. My mind is just racing right now. What I meant was that I _thought_ I might be a child of a god, but when I searched through Mother's old collection, I found a spear marked with the Latin engravings of the Eleventh Legion. I found it through connections I have in the army and joined."

He rolled up his sleeve and produced his forearm. Xanthe gasped. On his arm, a mark had been burned into his skin. The letters SPQR were written along his arm. Above it was an image of two crossed spears and below it were four bars.

"I'm a descendant of Mars," Florian explained. "On my father's side. Mother, I found out, doesn't have any godly blood. But she's clear-sighted. A clear-sighted mortal."

"Clear-sighted?" she asked.

"That means she can see through the Mist. It's this magical veil that makes monsters look different to regular mortals. You and I can see things for what they really are because we are descendants of the gods. The Mist twists reality so that regular people don't really see what is actually happening. Clear-sighted mortals are the exception to that. They are mortals who can see what is actually happening."

"Regular mortals?" Xanthe looked at her arms. "If I'm the daughter of... Neptune, like you said. Does that mean I'm part god? Is that why those weird things happened to me?"

"Yes," he nodded. "But having the blood of the gods is a curse. The scent of your blood lures monsters toward you. They will try to kill you. The closer your generation is to the godly parent, the stronger the scent. The stronger the godly parent, the stronger the scent. That's why monsters generally avoided me. I learned I'm a twentieth generation legacy of Mars. That means twenty mothers and fathers ago, the father was Mars. Enough mortal blood can dilute the demigod scent... make it less strong... make less monsters chase after you. You, on the other hand, are a direct descendant of one of the most powerful gods, Neptune. That means you're a demigod... that you're going to be attacked by the worst of monsters."

Xanthe listened as her blood turned to ice. She suddenly felt dizzy, and she felt her body crash to the ground.

"Xanthe!" Florian cried.

"What do you think you're doing?" another voice said from behind him.

Xanthe was still awake and conscious. Although her head hurt, and everything felt fuzzy, she could see the furious look Mother was giving Florian.

Florian gathered his resolve. "I'm finally taking action on what I should have done a long time ago. If Xanthe is really a daughter of Neptune, she _needs_ to join the legion. She _needs_ the protection. The monsters should have already come swarming. I held off because you said you had it under control, but when I returned from the army, I saw several daemons and hellhounds waiting to pounce. She's ten now. She's old enough to learn about this stuff."

"You think I didn't know of the monsters?" Mother asked with a dark glare. "There are limits to your aid, Florian. Yes, I let you find out about your father. It was something I should have done a long time before, but I couldn't gather the courage to tell you. Especially when I met Pos—Neptune."

"Then you'll let me take Xanthe!" he argued.

"You can join the legion," Mother agreed. "But Xanthe does not belong there. She is different. She isn't who you think she is."

"You can't protect her forever!"

"I know that! I have plans for her! I'm not going to let my child die for nothing."

"What plans? How are you going to protect her when the monsters start coming?"

"The monsters have come for a _long_ time, Florian."

Florian looked flabbergasted. "I... I've never seen you like this. You're a pacifist. You hate fighting. You want nothing but to get through her life with as little trouble as possible. Why are you being so stubborn all of a sudden?"

"Because the more attention I attract, the worse my situation gets!" Mother boomed. Her shouting voice was much louder than Xanthe remembered. "I already have blood on my hands, a cursed soul... I didn't need to show Xanthe the world until she was ready. And until now, she's been just a child."

"For how long are you going to try and protect her?" Florian demanded. "What can you do to stop the monsters?"

"Like I said..." Mother turned her palms upwards. Blue fire coiled from her fingers, shrouding the room in a hasty mist. "...I have plans for her."

Florian stepped back in shock. "You... you're..."

"I regret ever learning under Circe," Mother said, closing her fists and dissolving the mist. "But it has come in handy when I've sought to protect Xanthe. This magic... this sorcery... is _much_ older than the Roman way. That is why... I beg of you, Florian. Xanthe is not yours to take."

"Surprise!" a voice hissed from above Xanthe.

Xanthe's vision suddenly cleared, and the bucket of water exploded. Water slammed into the creature hovering above her. Three metal darts—they were bronze—flew through the air toward Florian and Mother. Mother shoved Florian out of the way, and the darts slammed into Mother.

Except Mother wasn't affected. The darts disappeared as soon as they touched her skin.

"Daemon!" Florian shouted. He cursed at the iron sword at his feet, as if it was useless. He turned to her and Mother. "Run! I'll cover you. I'll head for Italia early. Promise me you'll be back when I return. Don't leave me alone."

"I swear on the River Styx that I'll return here if we survive."

Thunder rumbled in the sky.

"Come, Xanthe!"

Mother rushed to her side and helped her up. They began to run. Xanthe looked back and cried out, "Florian! Florian!"

And the last words the innocent, young Xanthe heard from Florian were: "Stay safe. I love you."

* * *

**Yes, Xanthe and Florian, and their mother, are all personally-created characters. Just in case it _wasn't_ apparent by the end of the chapter, this story takes place during the reign of Justinian I and Empress Theodora (circa 540-550 CE). There is a massive time gap and there is no mention of Percy. That is on purpose. Feel free to review or PM me if you need clarification on anything.**

**Cheers,**

**Sharky**


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Uncle! Uncle! Are we going to Mother now?"

Uncle Kyros laughed heartily. "Are you sick and tired of me already, Leon? It's only been a few weeks, boy."

"Doesn't mean I don't miss Mother!" he shot back.

"Okay, boy. Let's head on back to Mother."

They switched course, turning onto the paved-stone road heading south. Originally, they had been headed for Adrianople. They'd just finished a trade route up to Narona, where a small trading post had been set up as a transfer station to supply the troops marching north toward Italia. Adrianople was where Uncle Kyros' base of operations was. He often went down into Constantinople, but Leon had never been to the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire. Instead, they turned down the Axios River, moving toward the village Leon was from: a very Christian town just upriver from Thessalonica.

Leon wanted to see his mother because she wasn't feeling very well, even though that was part of the reason why he'd gone out with his uncle in the first place. It all started when he was very young, perhaps five or six years old. Weird monsters began attacking them. He quickly found that he was able to destroy them, turn them into dust.

But whatever he'd experienced wasn't what his mother experienced. She constantly worried and prayed to the Lord to ask for forgiveness... that they weren't worthy of such punishment and that she would atone for any sins she unknowingly committed.

Recently, when on the trip with Uncle Kyros, Leon discovered that he had some control of lightning.

They'd camped out at night and needed to start a fire. Uncle Kyros was having some trouble, especially because it was raining that night. Starting a fire was almost impossible, even with the fire striker and flint. Uncle Kyros went back into the shelter to grab more flint, as he'd destroyed most of it. As he was doing so, Leon poked at the wood, pretending to hope it would magically light on fire.

Suddenly, his finger felt hot and hummed with energy. A blast of lightning shot out of his fingertip and ignited the wood. Immediately, a fire bloomed and miraculously stayed lit.

Uncle Kyros jumped out at the sudden sound, calling out, "Leon! What happened?"

He only found a small eleven-year-old boy staring in shock at a brilliant red glow.

But his uncle, too, was a devout believer in the faith of Christ.

When Leon told him that lightning shot out of his finger, he just laughed and said, "No, boy. Don't be so silly. The fire is just God's way of telling us that we're blessed tonight."

As a child, he had been told to worship God and revere the Lord. But some part of him refused to accept that. He never really knew why. So he pretended that he believed in it because that's what everyone else was supposed to believe in.

Although it had only been two weeks since that discovery, he suddenly found himself believing that this power of his was real, and that Christianity wasn't real in his world.

He remembered a conversation he'd had with his mother a couple years ago about his father. Since they were village folk they were never subject to the same discrimination they would have faced because Mother had a child out of wedlock. In fact, some believed that perhaps he was the next coming of Christ.

"He was amazing, your father," Mother said dreamily. "Strong, handsome, powerful. He was everything I could have ever wanted. Except... he wasn't a normal man. I could tell that right away. He was like divinity. He treated me like I was Empress Theodora. It was truly the most wondrous time of my life. It is so sad that it lasted no longer than a few days."

"What... what was he like?"

"Oh my..." Mother rested her chin on her hand. "Long black shoulder-length hair... grey-and-black beard trimmed neatly. Brilliant electric-blue eyes with a serious and proud face. In many ways, he's like you, Leon. But you have my nose. I will always remember that."

Leon blushed.

"And he called himself... the King God. Oh, it really almost is as if I'm the next Mary. And you would be the next Christ, Leon. You could be the saviour of the people."

Back then, he wasn't entirely sure if he wanted that. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

A bump in the road snapped him back to the present. For a moment, he lost his bearings and he felt dizzy and sick from the motion of the wagon. He lurched to the side and gagged.

"Woah, Leon!" Uncle Kyros called out, grabbing his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Instead of vomiting, Leon just coughed. He coughed until the nausea faded. Looking up at Uncle Kyros, who had slowed the wagon down and was watching him carefully, he began, "The old myths—"

"And here we go again," Uncle Kyros groaned. He scanned him up and down, checking to make sure he was okay. Once he deemed him suitable for travel, he turned back to face the front and started to accelerate. "I told you, boy. Nothing good comes out of knowing those stories. Western Rome fell because they held onto those false beliefs, ignoring the reality and truth of our Lord."

"But you said the myths originally came from here—"

"That's enough, boy!" Uncle Kyros barked angrily. "Enough with those silly stories."

"Who was the King God?" Leon asked.

"I said enough!" Uncle Kyros yanked the reins and pulled the wagon to a shuddering stop. He whirled around, revealing his large purple face. "Zeus, Poseidon, Hades and the rest of those miserable pagan gods don't exist! There is no palace atop Mount Olympus! I answered your questions before because I thought it would be good for bonding, but your insistence is getting to be really annoying, boy. Get it in that dull head of yours! Your mother is delusional! Your father was nothing but a scum whose only desire was to sleep with a pretty woman!"

Leon flinched.

"You know," Uncle Kyros growled. "Until today, I thought you were like my sister. I didn't know your father personally, but I can only imagine the disgusting traits he gave you. Stubborn, prideful, and assertive. Ignorant and arrogant for sure!"

Leon didn't make eye contact with him. He suddenly felt small and scared.

"Is it because you've never seen me as family? _I_ was the one that helped raise you, not your father. Your father abandoned you when you were a child. I did my best to support you and my sister any way I could. I wasn't always there, I know. But does your mother mean nothing? Why don't you listen to her? Why do you doubt reality and indulge in your childish fantasies?"

Leon glanced up at the sky. As Kyros ranted, the air suddenly felt colder. The cloudy sky grew dark, as if a storm was coming. But the weird thing was that it was only above them. It was almost as if the sky was angry at them... and at them only.

Thunder rolled across the sky.

"You haven't once said you like me, boy," Kyros continued, ignoring the loud boom. "You haven't once said 'Thank you' to me for helping you like this. Your mother isn't in a good condition, and I've been nothing but helpful by bringing you along. I've let you explore and see the world. From Narona to Adrianople. People dream of doing such things... travelling and exploring the world. Few can actually live it, boy. Without me, how would you get back home?"

"I don't know," Leon murmured.

"Tell me, boy. Why do you keep asking about those myths? Why are you so interested in those stories?"

Leon looked up at the man. He didn't want to lie. He didn't feel it was right. But he knew what Uncle Kyros would do if he spoke the truth. He clenched his fists and prepared to defend himself.

"Because I don't believe in your god."

Kyros' eyes nearly bulged out of his head. The horses whinnied as he let go of the reins and turned his body. With a powerful strike, his fist connected with Leon's cheek, sending the boy tumbling out of the cart.

Leon cried out in pain as he landed on his elbow.

"You insolent boy!" Kyros roared. He hopped down from the wagon. "I dare you to say that _one_ more time, boy! If you say that once more, I'll know for sure that it was you that drove my sister insane! I'll know for sure that you're a demon from the depths of Hell here to torture my family!"

Leon didn't say anything. He stared up at the man, unsure of whether he'd heard him correctly. Leon was many things. He was a troublemaker. He was prideful and liked to do things his way. He tended to listen to his feelings rather than his thoughts. But there was one thing he would _never_ do. And that was hurt his mother.

Kyros raised his fist once more, but before he could strike, Leon's rage exploded.

"I have my mother's nose!" he yelled, saying the first thing that came to mind. And his vision filled with a blinding light.

When the light died down, he saw Kyros lying on the ground in front of him, unmoving.

The storm that seemed to be gathering above them dissipated as quickly as it had come. The sky lightened, as if suddenly pleased.

After recovering from the shock, Leon pulled himself up onto his knees. Slowly, he crawled toward Kyros' body. His voice caught in his throat as he rolled him over. There was a smoking hole in Kyros' chest where Leon guessed he'd hit his uncle.

For a while, Leon sat there on his knees. He knew exactly what happened, but part of him didn't want to accept it.

Kyros didn't move an inch. He was dead.

Leon knew he'd lost control for a moment. Staring at his own hands, he came to the horrible realization that he was a killer. He'd just murdered someone. And that someone was his own uncle.

"Uncle?" he asked meekly into the empty woods. "Uncle, are you there?"

His words were lost in the wilderness.

Surely someone would find them soon. This was a paved road. That meant people still used it. Surely someone would stumble upon them on their journey. Leon just needed someone from Thessalonica to arrive and save him.

The sun was setting when the first travellers arrived on the scene.

Leon looked up as he saw two figures on horseback slow down. The bigger of the two slid down and pulled down her hood. Leon was surprised to see that it was a woman and a young girl alone. Usually women didn't leave cities without men. It was a dangerous world out there. But the older woman approached him with a warm and concerned look.

"Did you..." Leon realized his teeth were chattering. "Did you come from Thessalonica?"

The woman eyed him, worry evident in her furrowed eyebrows. "No. Thebes. Farther south."

"Can you... can you take me to the village just upriver from Thessalonica?" He was cold. He knew it. Sitting in the pavement in the cold autumn day with barely enough clothing to cover himself was not a smart idea. "I have... I have family there..."

The woman nodded. There was a distant look in her eyes, almost as if she didn't want to stay around. But she decided to help simply because there was a young boy on the ground with a dead man next to him. At least, that's what he thought.

"Here." She pulled out a vial from her robes. The liquid inside looked like water. "Drink this. It will help you."

Leon was too tired and confused to think the lady would do any harm to him. He grabbed the vial, opened it, and drank its contents. Even though it looked like water, it didn't taste like it. It was cleaner, richer and thicker. Immediately, he felt warmth return to his body, as if he'd drunk a potion of some sort. Energy flowed in his veins.

"Mother..." the girl warned.

The woman stared at him carefully. She glanced at Kyros. "Did you do this?"

Leon froze. Why did she ask that? Was it possible that she knew? How did she know?

"Don't worry," she said soothingly. "I'm not going to execute you for parricide. I'm not Roman."

"Parricide...?" Leon didn't recognize the word.

"Is this your father?" she asked. "Or your uncle?"

For some reason, he felt it better to tell the woman. He had a feeling she already knew all the answers anyway. He swallowed nervously and muttered, "Uncle."

"Parricide means the killing of one's parents or close relatives," she explained. She turned to the girl. "Check the wagon. If there are any valuables, take them. If there are none, leave them and let other merchants find it."

"Wait, you can't take it!" Leon cried. "Those belong to my—"

"Uncle?" the woman asked. "I highly doubt he would care, considering he has a hole in his chest."

Leon clenched his fists.

"It also looks like you took a hit," she murmured as she examined his face. "Your uncle must have hit you once. Maybe twice. But no more than that. I assume you were off to visit your family in that village when an argument of some kind broke out?"

He didn't say anything. She already knew she was right. Why did she have to ask?

"I'll send you there," she decided at last. "What's your name?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Leon," he replied. "I'm eleven."

The woman nodded. "You look about that age." She turned to the girl, who was rummaging through the wagon. "My daughter, Xanthe, is ten."

Leon looked up at the mysterious woman. She had dark eyes and light skin. It was the perfect contrast to highlight how her gaze pierced through his soul. Her daughter, on the other hand, looked different. She looked like she spent her days out in the sunlight and had odd ocean-coloured eyes. He guessed she looked more like her father, just like himself.

The woman knelt over Kyros' body and grabbed something from him. He realized that it was the simple necklace his uncle wore: a wooden cross hanging from string. She stared at it for a moment before turning to Leon.

"I see..." she muttered. "_Is your family Christian?_"

He nodded. "_Yes, they're Christian._"

"_Do you believe in it?_"

Leon looked at her strangely. "_You called Christianity 'it'. You didn't ask if I believed in the Lord._"

"_And you're not speaking normal Greek_."

"_What do you mean? Of course I'm—_"

He stopped himself. What he just said didn't sound right. It almost sounded as if his pronunciation and grammar had changed.

"So you _are _one..." the woman mused. She touched Kyros' wound. "And this burn... It is definitely not thermal."

Leon clenched his fists again. How could this woman figure that all out? Who was she? What did she mean by him being 'one'? Were there more people like him? Were there more people who lived in the world where Christianity was false?

She said something again, this time in Latin. He didn't quite understand it. Latin was the language of the Western Empire. He hadn't heard anyone speak Latin in a long time.

"Definitely a Greek demigod, then," she muttered.

"Demi-what?"

"Xanthe!" the woman barked. "Have you not finished searching?"

They looked up to see that the girl had been staring at them. The girl had been staring at him, but when her mother shouted, she looked shocked, as if she couldn't believe that her mother had the capability of shouting loudly. Her eyes flickered back to Leon and, for a moment, he thought he smelled the ocean, though the feeling quickly passed.

The woman sighed. "Xanthe—"

"There's nothing," she replied. "Just trading goods."

"Very well then." The woman stood up. "We should go."

"Wait!" Leon finally found the strength to stand up. He stared at the woman. His curiosity tingled. "You know about that world. My... my uncle didn't tell me enough. Can you tell me more? Who... who is the King God?"

The woman studied him for a moment. She looked exasperated, as if she wanted no part of his request. But instead, she answered truthfully. "Zeus. He is the King of the Gods. The most powerful god on Olympus."

"And... he controls—"

"The sky and all that comes with it."

It all made sense. He understood why his mother had mistaken his father for her god. His father was the ruler of Olympus. He was the most powerful god of them all. The monsters that had attacked him, the ones that he'd destroyed, were attacking him because he was the son of the most important god.

"It is dangerous to stay here much longer," the woman warned. She looked up at the trees. "The beasts are on their way. I'll bring you to a safe haven, Leon. A place where demigods are protected from such creatures."

"No!" he blurted out. "I want to go back home. I need to see my mother."

She turned back to him with eyes full of curiosity and concern. "Are you sure? It is dangerous for a demigod to be alone. From what I can gather, your village doesn't take too kindly to other faiths." Her eyes flickered to Kyros' body. "You would need to protect yourself against monsters."

"I've been doing that for years," Leon argued. "I've been killing them with my mother's bronze dagger."

She could have easily made a counterpoint and urged him to go to safety. Of course, staying safe sounded like a good idea. But he didn't want to abandon his mother. Not after what he did to Kyros. If he left like this, his mother would surely go insane.

The woman didn't want any trouble.

"Very well. I'll bring you to your village."

She gestured to the horse.

She climbed on first, her daughter second, and him last. He swallowed nervously as he wrapped his arms around Xanthe to grab her mother's sides. He was surprised at how fit they both felt. The woman had very little fat around her waist; he felt like he was grasping onto a block of stone. As well, the girl, Xanthe, had a sturdy back. As he leaned closer so he wouldn't fall off, he could feel her back pushing against him, as if repelling him.

As they rode down the path, he smelled the ocean again.

"Are we going to the camp afterward, Mother?" Xanthe asked.

"Yes, dear."

"Why do I have to go?"

"It's for your own safety."

"But what about Florian?"

"He won't be back for a while. Don't worry."

Leon felt bad for intruding on their conversation. He figured it was a personal matter, and even though he likely wouldn't ever see them again, it didn't feel right to listen in on their little talk.

"I still can't really believe this," Xanthe muttered.

"It is hard at first," her mother agreed. The woman kept the horse at a steady gallop. "Even more difficult when you are a mortal thrust into the midst of a war."

There was silence for a while as the conversation died off.

Leon watched the trees thin out as they neared the hills. Near the river there were fewer trees. He wasn't sure why, but it didn't make it easier to travel along the terrain. The river was in the center of two rocky hills, meaning the only way to ride away from the river was a climb the rocky hillside. The road passed along the top of the hill, giving them a good view of the river below.

"So you're a son of Zeus?" Xanthe asked suddenly. She hadn't turned her head, so at first, he wondered if she was talking to him. But he quickly realized that he was the only boy. It was obviously meant for him.

He nodded, not that she could see. "Yeah... I guess."

"I'm a daughter of Neptune... or Poseidon." The girl turned her head slightly, facing straight forward at her mother's back. "Which one is it again, Mother?"

"Poseidon," she responded.

"Who's Neptune?" Leon asked.

"Poseidon's Roman form," the girl answered. "Don't worry. I don't know what that means either."

"Aren't we Roman?" he frowned.

"Yes and no," Xanthe said. "We're Roman in that we live here in the Eastern Roman Empire. But as demigods we're actually Greek... the original form of the gods. We actually live in what used to be Greek territory."

"I don't know much about history," he said, with a chuckle.

"Neither do I," she laughed. "I'm just repeating what Mother told me."

"So there are two forms of the gods? Greek and Roman? We're children of the Greek gods... because we were born in Achaea?"

"Is that right, Mother?"

"No, not quite," her mother replied. The surroundings were beginning to feel more and more familiar. "Like I said, Xanthe. There are two forms of the gods: Greek and Roman. When they are in Greek form, they make babies like you two. When they are in Roman form, they make babies not like you two."

"What's the difference?" Leon asked. He was getting confused with all of this Greek and Roman stuff.

"There's a certain aura that only those who have seen both can detect," she explained. "It's very difficult to distinguish, but it is possible. Roman demigods tend to be few and far between. The majority of them are legacies, like your brother, Xanthe. By the way, Leon, the term 'legacy' refers to a descendant of a demigod rather than demigods themselves. The Romans under the old legions are far more strict and righteous. Greek demigods are more chaotic. They're left to their own devices, typically. Typically Roman demigods and legacies are claimed at birth. If they are Roman, they _know_ they are Roman. Unless the parents purposely hide that fact. Xanthe... your brother, for instance, didn't know because I hid it from him. At least, until I let him roam free and let his curiosity got the better of him. His father swore that he would come back to take him to the legion. When he didn't return, I chose not to reveal the fact to Florian. Greek demigods, on the other hand, are not given such liberties. They must find out for themselves... whether the family knows and decides to tell them or not. I could not tell you of such a fate. It is why I have protected you for so long."

"Brother...?" Leon asked.

"Half-brother," Xanthe answered. "But why did it sound like he didn't know he was a descendant of Mars?"

"His father never came back," her mother replied sadly. "Instead, two of the legion's representatives came. I was angry. I killed them both. Florian was but a toddler when I left him in the care of an old friend and fled to the sorceress' island. I left the dreadful place and came back when he was seven. We reconciled, but I told him that he couldn't search for his father... search for the legion. I forbade him, and he likely resented me for that. Him joining the army was his way of betraying me, but I could not stop him. After all, I had to take care of you, Xanthe."

"You fell for another man," Leon said.

"Poseidon and I didn't love each other," she said. Her voice hardened. "I knew it was him... we were both in foul moods and... Xanthe was just the result of pent up anger and frustration. But Poseidon was kind enough to offer aid... He gave me all the information and resources I needed to help protect Xanthe. In return, I cherished our child and promised to raise her as a true child of the Sea God." She laughed humourlessly. "I've failed at that."

He could feel Xanthe's shoulders droop. She must have been disappointed. He felt guilty listening to their story and not telling his own. He raised his head and said, "I've lived my life as a liar."

Xanthe craned her neck to watch him out of the corner of her eye.

"My village is a Christian one, but for some reason, I never really believed in it. I've always had this strange ability to see things the other villagers couldn't, including my mother. I'm not sure why, but I just thought I was just cursed. Now, learning all of this, everything makes so much sense. But I've always felt like something was missing."

"Are you sure you want to continue on to your village?" Xanthe's mother asked once again. "It sounds like you don't belong there."

"Yes, I need to see my mother," he insisted. "I can't leave her like this."

The woman sighed.

They stopped at the outskirts of the village. Leon slipped off the horse.

"Stay safe," Xanthe said with a wave.

He smiled at the girl. She was cute. "You too. Good luck."

She nodded.

When he turned back to face his home, he heard the sound of the horse whinnying and Xanthe exclaiming "The horse said a bad word!"

Could children of Poseidon talk to horses? He shook his head to help him focus. That was something to be researched later. Right now, he had to get to his mother. He needed to atone for the grave sin he'd committed.

"Leon!" one of the elder workers cried out. "Is that you? What are you doing there?" He winced and grabbed his back in pain.

Leon ran over to him. "Elder! Are you all right?"

"Just a little pain," the elder grimaced. He looked toward the town center... toward Leon's house. "Your mother... she said you'd be back today. She said that you would return home today, that she saw it in a dream. How did she...?"

_A dream? Were the gods sending her visions of what happened? Did she already know about Kyros?_

"Where's Mother?" Leon asked.

"At home," he replied.

He didn't wait for another word. Taking off as fast as he could, he sprinted back home. Stunned and shocked faces stared at him as a raced past, pointing and muttering about how his mother had been right. As he arrived at the door to their home, he heard his mother's voice cry out: "He's here!"

Leon opened the door.

Sitting on the floor, staring at the door with a cloth pressed to her forehead, was his mother. She looked like she'd just recovered from some sort of sickness. Her bright smile lit up the room.

"My boy!" she cried out. "Did you and Kyros return?"

At the mention of his uncle's name, his face fell. What dream did she have that predicted that he would return him with Kyros? What kind of twisted message did she see?

"Oh... oh, no." His mother stood up and embraced him in a tight hug. "Don't tell me you were raided by bandits. Did Uncle Kyros... did he die?"

He didn't answer.

"Oh, no." He could feel her eyes forming tears. "My poor brother. After everything he did, he sacrificed his life to save you. Oh, Lord. You have truly blessed us today. You have let my son live. You have made my brother a saviour. Thank the Lord."

_Ah... That's right_, he thought. _She's Christian._ Perhaps she was better off ignorant. Maybe it was good she saw that twisted message. Then she would never know the truth. She would never have to learn the darkest of all possibilities.

She would never have to know that her son was a murderer.

* * *

**I'm a little surprised that people have come back from the old days to read this. Sure, I'm still here after all these years and willing to upload, but it really feels like people have moved on since the heyday of PJO Fanfiction, especially since the whole series is over and the original readers are all adults now (the first PJO book came out in 2005! and HOO in 2010!). This one story I started in 2016, Breaking Point, had like 200 followers within four chapters release over the span of like two or three weeks. It really was insane. Anyway, I'm glad to see there's still a few of you left from way back when. I don't update nearly as much as I used to, and I even had a hard time getting this chapter ready.**

**At times, when I re-read what I've written to edit, I find it difficult to detach myself from some of the characters I've created. I hope I establish them well enough that you all develop your own opinions on these characters and hopefully I develop them enough in this story that they matter to you by the end of it.**

**So far, I've revealed Xanthe and Leon. A daughter of Poseidon and a son of Zeus. I'll give you a hint. There's one more Greek character to introduce. I bet you know what's coming.**

**In any case, as a warning beforehand, as large chunks of this plot was written about a year and a half ago, and I've tried and failed to make other stories in between, there will be some mashing up of ideas and characters and themes over that time span. Sometimes, there will be characters or ideas that are thrown in there that might not make sense. I'm here to tell you that... that's the point. Because that idea, plot point or character has a whole backstory in my mind that isn't necessary to the plot of this story.**

**Anyway, enough rambling! Thanks for reading. I'm not really back for any attention. I just hate looking at the folder of like 20 trashed story-ideas over the past three years and hope this suits your tastes.**

**All the best,  
Sharky**


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Athanasios woke up, his heart pounding.

Realizing that he was actually in his cabin, he muttered a few unfriendly curses toward Morpheus. He stood up and stretched, watching the light of the day illuminate the cabin's dark walls. He grumbled unhappily. He wasn't a big fan of all the light. And no, it wasn't just because he was the son of Hades.

But being the son of Hades meant he had dreams a little worse than the average demigod.

He remembered watching that child of Zeus kill his uncle. As a child of Hades, he could sense when someone died—typically demigods and monsters but sometimes mortals. In the dream, he felt a tingling sensation, a unique response to that man's death. The funny thing was that just a couple days ago he'd felt a disturbance... a tingling.

They felt exactly the same.

As Alexandros, son of Ares, put so eloquently, "Dreams are real, dammit!"

He exited the cabin, following the first item on his schedule for the day.

With all the fighting that had been going on between Greeks and Romans, the number of people at camp had dwindled down quite significantly.

It wasn't _that_ small, but it was still near impossible to get to know everyone personally. After all, he was just a twelve-year-old kid. But he'd seen his fair share of older youths leaving to join the fight in the mortal world. This was supposed to be the final battle... the battle that would determine who would remain on the face of Gaea (literally): Greek demigods or the Roman legions.

If the reports were correct, there were four legions left: the 11th, 12th, 13th and 14th. The Twelfth was having trouble in Frankia following a defeat handed to them by Ostrogoth forces. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth had merged to create one large legion, and they were marching down to Syria to secure the strongholds there. That left the Eleventh to fight on the frontlines in the heart of enemy territory while waiting for reinforcements.

The scouts reported that the Eleventh Legion had roughly two hundred and fifty soldiers, plus a couple dozen scattered as informants. The Twelfth Legion had been reduced from its mighty eight hundred to four hundred. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth together created a large force of over one thousand. Together, the remaining legions totalled at almost 1700 troops.

That, compared to the scatter of Greek demigods, was enormous. With Chiron's estimate, Greek demigods numbered at roughly five hundred... max.

How could the Greeks win the war? How was that possible?

Well, first of all, the Romans weren't fighting with 1700 troops. Those 1700 were scattered across the Empire, and only 250 were even nearby. Second of all, the Romans couldn't fight with all their troops, just like the Greeks. Quite a few of the warriors were children. There was no way eight-year-olds were getting into the fight. The Greek plan was to permit anyone, at a minimum ten years of age, to fight if they so wished. Even then, kids would always be guarded by older demigods in battle. Third of all, the Greek demigods organized themselves in the best possible way to fend off Romans. That is, to say, without any organization whatsoever.

It was a plan concocted a few centuries ago. Some said it was a collection of Athena's children that made the plan. Some said there was a single mastermind behind the whole process. Chiron would never say, insisting his only job was to prepare the Greek demigods for survival. Regardless of who made the plan, it was based on historical Greek power in the Mediterranean. Greeks were never a true powerhouse in the world. All demigods knew that. Not even Alexander the Great could unite _all_ Greeks. Following the tale of Odysseus, or as the Romans called him, Ulysses, everyone knew trickery was the only way they were going to win. It was the way they had been fighting for several hundred years, and it was working.

Ever since the strategy began, the Roman legions crumbled from over twenty-four down to the measly four that remained.

What was that strategy?

Well, Diocletian was the last true demigod emperor of Rome, a son of Jupiter who gave up and retired peacefully. He was coerced into letting Constantine, a mortal, rule the Empire. It was good for the Greeks. Why? Because Constantine enacted Christianity as the Empire's religion. How could that help? Because it turned the entire Eastern Roman Empire into a mortal-led region. Paganism was overturned, and the Roman pantheon would come to exist predominantly in the West, where true Roman power lay.

It was a hammer-and-anvil plan.

With Christianity rising in the East, Greek demigods would lay siege to Western Rome. With the Germanic tribes, they would crush what remained of the West before storming east to destroy the last legions.

The only problem was that many of the Ostrogoths turned on Greek demigods.

The barbarians saw them as a threat to their own power. While Greek demigods existed in the west, they were few and far between, and the only help they could provide was harassing the Twelfth Legion.

Chiron had told him that every civil war between Greek and Roman demigods had been started by a child of Athena, seeking an old Athenian relic out of revenge. Even as a son of Hades, Athanasios was scared by the unwavering strength and anger children of Athena had toward the Romans. He wasn't sure there were any demigods scarier than children of Athena.

"Yeah, sure," scoffed Ionna. Her grey eyes were stormier than usual. "And summoning skeletons from the dirt isn't scary."

"I never said it wasn't scary," he pointed out.

"Most people would find it scarier than a blonde-headed kid with grey eyes."

"Have you seen your brothers and sisters?" Athanasios asked incredulously. "I swear, if looks could kill, children of Athena would be murderers."

"Whatever, Thanas," Ionna grumbled.

They were on patrol duty first thing in the morning. Of course, there was a giant drakon helping patrol the camp's borders, but the entrance always needed a pair of demigod eyes, just in case something bad happened.

The camp consisted of a few adults, mainly to keep an eye on things. The majority of the camp was comprised of children and adolescents training for war. He and Ionna were twelve... on the younger side of the recruits. That was mainly true because few Greek demigods made it to camp in the first place. The ones who did usually ranged anywhere from eight to sixteen. And the younger ones only made it because they, typically, weren't children of the Olympians but rather of minor gods. They were 'the unclaimed.' They found out about their identity before the monsters came to kill them.

Athanasios arrived at camp when he was barely a toddler. He couldn't remember his mother. He didn't know whether she'd died or if she'd just given him up to leave the crazy world of monsters and gods. His whole life had been spent at the camp, and he knew he would do everything in his power to save it.

He'd been claimed almost as soon as he arrived. He'd grown up as 'the child of Hades'. Everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of. For ten years, he trained, striving to become more and more powerful.

Now, he could summon a small force of perhaps a hundred skeletal warriors to fight for him without feeling faint. It wasn't like he needed much more than that. Even if the Roman numbers were double that, the skeleton warriors were simply there as a distraction while the children of Apollo and Hephaestus bombarded the enemy forces with arrows and siege weaponry.

He'd even practised controlling old stones and gems, though he wasn't quite as proficient at that power. It came in handy whenever Roman golden eagles were spotted. Even if they were fairly far off, he had enough power to snap the animal's wings off and send it spiralling down. The children of Hephaestus would take the body, install a weird device into its head which essentially made the golden eagle dumb and let it fly back.

Ionna yawned. She looked bored.

Sentry duty was normally a boring position anyway. Even if it was for precaution, Iris-messages were constantly sent back and forth to detail the position of the Roman forces. Greek demigods were always darting around, engaging in unconventional tactics... provoking Roman scouts and leading them around in circles. Most of the time, sentry duty passed without a single thing happening.

Usually the only time when they were disturbed was when satyrs or other demigods brought new recruits into the fold.

Athanasios quietly summoned a skeleton soldier behind Ionna. He discreetly motioned toward Ionna, signalling the skeleton soldier to scare her. The skeleton understood. It faced Ionna's back and grabbed her shoulders with its bony hands.

Ionna whirled around and shrieked, slicing the skeleton's head off with her dagger.

Athanasios laughed.

"You think this is funny?!" Ionna's eyes blazed with anger. There was the patented death-glare from children of Athena. "We're at war with the Romans! If _you_ had been the one sneaking up on me, you'd be dead!"

He continued to laugh, though her eyes were making him feel unnerved. He leaned in and poked her nose. "Gotcha."

Ionna pulled away from him, covering her nose. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she turned red. She muttered a few indecent curses at him in the old tongue.

Where Ionna was different from her siblings was that she was his age. Since she wasn't older than him, she didn't scare him _that_ much. Maybe it was also because she was pretty. Sometimes it was hard to say, considering all children of Athena had blonde hair and grey eyes, but each of them had slightly different facial features. Some looked more like Athena. Some looked more like their fathers. To him, Ionna was cuter than any of her siblings, both older and younger.

"Should I kick you where it hurts?" she threatened.

"I'm good," he grinned.

She shook her head in disapproval and turned to face outward from the entrance.

It was a good thing she did because they might have looked super silly for not noticing a sudden guest.

"Oh..." Ionna looked surprised. "Hi, there."

Athanasios turned to face the newcomers.

It was a cloaked woman with a child. The child looked just a bit younger than him and Ionna. Maybe nine or ten. The woman was smiling at them as if she had been watching her two long-lost children. Her smile was distant, as if a part of her had been lost a long time ago. Her eyes glistened with worry. It seemed like she'd come from a place of death.

"I'll bring her to Chiron," Ionna said suddenly. She turned to him. "Guard her on her way out."

"That won't be necessary," the woman intervened. She stared at her so intensely, Athanasios thought her eyes were literally blazing with fire. "I've come to meet Chiron."

Athanasios and Ionna glanced at each other.

Neither of them knew who the woman was or what she possibly could be, but there was no doubt that the girl was a demigod... a Greek demigod. There was just something about her features that screamed 'GREEK'. He scanned her sea-green eyes, which seemed mysterious and powerful.

Until that day, he was certain he was the most powerful demigod at the camp. Even if he still was, he could sense danger from the girl. Parts of him screamed that she was an enemy... but not like a Roman enemy. When he looked back at Ionna, he knew immediately who the girl's godly parent was. Her eyes reflected the ocean. She was a child of Poseidon.

"Well... that's a surprise..."

Athanasios and Ionna whipped around to find Alexandros and Viviana watching them with interest. Alexandros opened his mouth to say something, but Viviana quickly stepped forward. The daughter of Hermes caught on quickly.

"You guys should go on to Chiron," she said. "We'll take over sentry duty."

"Great," muttered Alexandros. "Another girl."

"Don't underestimate girls," Viviana said through gritted teeth.

He gestured to his chest. "Normally girls have these things to hinder them from combat. I suppose you wouldn't know."

Athanasios could tell where this conversation was about to go. Granted, he was the only other guy there, but he wasn't exactly fond of the topic. He grabbed Ionna's and the girl's hands and began to drag them off to the headquarters.

"Let's go."

"Good idea," the woman muttered, a frown appearing on her face as she looked at the bickering son of Ares and daughter of Hermes.

She and Chiron greeted each other like lost friends. It was weird.

The woman turned out to be a former trainee under Circe, the sorceress. Circe and Medea were the two most renowned witches in the olden times. As impressive as it was, he couldn't imagine a mortal travelling all the way out into the sea to train with such a woman.

Chiron welcomed the girl, whose name was Xanthe, and ordered him and Ionna to show her around.

As he did, she was claimed. Above her head, a glowing green trident appeared. There was no doubt now. The girl was a spawn of the sea. Naturally, they were rivals. And the girl seemed rather calm about this whole business despite having very little clue of what was actually going on.

"This is the archery range," he pointed out as they passed by. A few children of Apollo were practising to split their arrows with each consecutive shot. It was a difficult task, but some of them were able to complete the task without breaking a sweat. "Usually it's just children of Apollo. Hermes' children can also shoot but they're nowhere near as accurate. Children of the other gods do fine as well. The unclaimed are pretty good... some of them, at least. Children of Ares don't like archery, though. They think it's cowardly. Children of Athena, like Ionna, vary a lot."

Xanthe wrinkled her nose. "I don't like archery."

Athanasios snorted. "Yeah, neither do I."

"So you're a son of Hades?" asked the daughter of Poseidon. "Wasn't Hades a bad guy in all the stories?"

"That's what everyone likes to think," he mumbled.

Hades was always misinterpreted and misrepresented. Hades was never really accepted anywhere except the Underworld. He used to have a place up on Olympus, but with the spread of mortals everywhere, the Underworld had been getting busier and busier. He had less time to deal with Olympian matters. Besides, he was never on the Council anyway. It made no sense for him to be there.

Hades may have kidnapped Persephone, but a large part of that was because he was lonely. He just wanted someone to accompany him. In truth, Hades was more impartial than evil. The real evil ones were beings like the Titans and the Giants. Nevertheless, that stigma against him would never disappear so long as Hades remained an outcast.

Fortunately for him, Ionna didn't seem to care about that. She wasn't as uptight as many of her siblings. She was also more willing to take risks... be unwise sometimes.

"Thanas isn't so bad," Ionna said with a smile. "He's misunderstood a lot. Lots of people hear fear him, respect him, stay wary of him... A mix of various things."

"Mother said Poseidon and Hades are brothers," Xanthe replied. "She said they have a rivalry."

"Add Zeus in and you've got them all," Athanasios said. "The three brothers, and their children, like to fight. A long time ago, over a thousand years ago, three children of the... Big Three, let's call them... had a major disagreement. They fought each other for power and ended up destroying much of the Greek population. Greek demigods almost went extinct. When all that remained were scattered legacies, descendants of the gods, the whole world shifted to a mortal-centered viewpoint. It's why you see mortals like your mother... the descendants of those born with the gift to see both worlds.

They stopped at the creek.

"Poseidon is the god of the sea, right?" Xanthe asked.

He nodded.

"Does that mean he can't control rivers?"

Athanasios looked at Ionna. She gave him a look that said 'How am I supposed to know everything?' But she stepped in anyway. Athanasios smiled. He could always count on her to cover for him.

"It's complicated," she told Xanthe. "Poseidon doesn't directly control naiads, the spirits of fresh water. But many are subservient to him. They help him as long as he returns the favour. He is essentially the guardian of all water sources in the world. But first and foremost, he is the god of the sea. His power is more prominent in the ocean."

"What does subservient mean?" Xanthe asked with a frown.

"Uh..." Ionna hesitated for a moment. "They... follow him. He's sort of like their master. But not really."

"Oh. Okay."

"Can you control that creek?" Athanasios asked. He'd never seen a child of Poseidon before. He wondered how powerful they were. After all, the ocean was a very dangerous place.

Xanthe's frown deepened. "Control? I don't know how to control water."

"When did you find out you were a demigod?" he asked.

"Three days ago."

That explained it. She really didn't know much about anything. He figured her mother told her a few things in a hurry as they travelled to the camp.

"My brother told me that I was a daughter of Neptune. Then we were attacked by a daemon so my brother defended us and Mother and I ran away."

Athanasios found himself looking at Ionna again.

_Neptune?_ he mouthed.

She paused for a moment and pursed her lips, as if deciding what to say. After what seemed like a period of silence dragged on for a moment too long, she said, "Neptune is the Roman form of your father."

Xanthe gave her a confused look for a moment before realization hit her. "Oh, sorry. I still don't really understand this whole Greek-Roman thing. I know that there are two aspects of the gods, but I don't know why. Mother explained everything in a rush. I'm starting to get the hang of it, but until last week, I'm pretty sure I was Christian. Why do they say pagans are bad?"

"Well, it's complicated but..." Ionna tried to find the words to explain the history of Christianity and Rome. "I guess it really started with Nero. A little bit of Caligula too. Nero, you see, was a pretty ruthless emperor. He was a descendant of Apollo. Funny, because Julius Caesar was a descendant of Venus, but that's a whole other story. Anyway, Nero disliked pretty much anybody but himself. He arranged the murder of his own mother because he wanted to remarry again. He started the Great Fire of Rome and refused to help until it threatened his own palace and killed a lot of Christians during his reign, crucifying and burning some of them alive. Saint Peter was among them."

"I know about Saint Peter," Xanthe nodded. "And crucifixion. Emperor Nero did that? Why?"

"He was a lunatic," Athanasios said. "Among demigods and legacies alike, Nero is up there is one of the most evil people to ever have lived." He paused. "You know what legacies are, right?"

She nodded again.

"Okay, good."

"So because Roman emperors, who were pagans, killed Christians, they don't like pagans?"

Ionna nodded. "When Constantine became the first Christian emperor, paganism began to whittle away."

"Whittle?"

"It became less popular over time," she explained. "And that was the beginning of the end for Western Rome. Little did Constantine know, turning away from the gods of Olympus meant doom. He reunited the whole empire under his control and truly was a great commander. But it meant the empire would fall out of the gods' favour. And ultimately, this was what led to the war between Greeks and Romans.

"So... is Christianity bad?"

Ionna shook her head. "No. In fact, we work with Christians. We advise them on how to deal with the barbarians... how to adapt their strategies to keep the empire afloat. We need to keep the Eastern Empire alive for now... until more Germanic and Frankish demigods appear. Then we can migrate."

"Migrate..." Xanthe muttered.

"Move," Ionna explained, just in case the girl didn't understand. "In any case, Christians aren't bad... but a few of them are a little extreme. They only believe in their faith and refuse to believe in anything else. They force their wills on others... believing that they _have_ to be Christian or their souls will be damned. Satyrs have reported several demigods who renounced their parentage and remained faithful to their religion. Unfortunately, that only ends up with one result: death."

"Luckily for them, their auras don't fully strengthen if they don't believe in it," Athanasios said.

Ionna sighed and nodded. "Yes, I suppose so. Death is better than being recruited by the Romans."

Xanthe frowned. "My brother wanted to take me. He said he was a descendant of Mars. He wanted to bring me to the legion."

Athanasios frowned. _Why would he want to—?_

"He doesn't know that you're a Greek demigod," Ionna said. She looked at the creek. "This water here follows the spirit of Olympus. Wherever the camp goes, this creek comes along. The water is from Olympus itself. A child of Rome wouldn't be able to touch this. They would cease to be Roman. Whatever legacy they carried on would wash away. They would become a regular mortal. The Romans were forbidden from Olympus. The gods were regarded as more divine by them than by our kind. The gods were beyond the Romans. We actively interacted with the gods, whether positively or negatively. Some of our kind ridiculed and boasted to the gods, and of course that earned them some well-deserved punishments. Lycaon was turned into a wolf... Arachne into a spider..." She shivered. "I hate spiders the most."

"Why?" Xanthe asked.

"Long story," Ionna grimaced. "In any case, if you really were Roman, you'd feel like this place is enemy territory, like you shouldn't be here. But I'm guessing you feel comfortable, right?"

Xanthe glanced behind her. Athanasios tried to track her eyes. He figured she was looking for her mother. "More comfortable than the horse. He kept saying bad words."

"Try controlling the creek, then," Ionna said. "Like we discussed earlier, naiads aren't directly in Poseidon's domain but..."

"How do I control it?" she frowned.

Ionna looked at Athanasios. Her expression said '_Tell her, you idiot. I don't have superpowers like you._'

"I'd say being freakishly perceptive and annoyingly intelligent is a superpower," he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Ionna asked, shooting him a glare. Something about her tone told him that she knew what he said.

"Nothing," he said, waving her glare off. He turned to the creek. "Well... have you ever controlled water before, Xanthe?"

She put a finger to her chin in thought. "Mmm... just once. When the daemon attacked."

"Do you remember that feeling in your gut?" Athanasios pointed to his stomach. "When you used your power, did you feel something stir in here?"

She shook her head. "I... I don't remember."

Athanasios frowned. He scratched his head. "Well, whenever I use my powers, I feel something in my gut tug. It's like... whenever I use my powers, there's an overwhelming feeling as if I'm drawing power from my soul. It's as if I'm using my life energy to use my power."

It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a complete lie.

The reality was that him using his powers was _actually_ using his life energy to use his power. Each use of his power drained him. He could recover, but there was always a point where he felt like he was sucking a part of his soul out of him. He knew that if he went too far, his essence would disappear. He would dissolve into shadows. His spirit would never go to the Underworld.

He demonstrated. Turning to the shadow of the tree beside them, he summoned his sword. The shadows reached out and surrounded his hand, curling like misty fingers, and extending out and away from his body. His Stygian iron sword appeared, the dark energy radiating from the night-black blade.

Xanthe went wide-eyed.

"This is Stygian iron," Ionna explained. She was doing a lot of explaining. "It's much more dangerous than celestial bronze, which is what our weapons are made of, or imperial gold, which is what the Romans' weapons are made of. While those two metals can kill monsters and demigods, and hurt immortals, Stygian iron can also kill mortals. Celestial bronze and imperial gold are like magic to mortals. They cannot be hurt from them."

Xanthe frowned. "My mother is mortal. But she's a sorceress. She can see through the Mist. Can she be harmed?"

"A sorceress?" Ionna looked a little skittish. "I'm a little unsure about that one..."

Xanthe turned back to Athanasios and pointed at his sword. "Can I use that?"

He shook his head. "Only for use by children of the Underworld. You _could_ use it, but it would rebel against you. Just like if I used a sword of the sea. I could probably still kill creatures, but the sword wouldn't feel balanced. It would fight against me because I'm not a child of the sea. There's this old forbidden story that's gone around about Heracles... that he once received a sword of the sea as a gift from one of his lovers but discarded it because it didn't work for him. The lover died, and it's suspected that the sword is cursed. The rumor says Chiron might have—"

"And you believe those rumors?" Ionna asked skeptically.

"Hey, you never know!"

"Just show her how to use her powers," she sighed.

"Say please."

"Don't even start this."

"I won't do it until you say please."

She sighed in resignation. "_Please_ show her."

Without thinking, he reached out and petted her hair. He opened his mouth to tease her, but when he saw her wide eyes, he realized what he was doing and yanked his arm away as fast as he could. He saw Xanthe staring at them, her eyes narrowed and brain working to try and figure out what was going on. He hoped she was dumb and dense.

Athanasios concentrated again. He shook his head and blinked a few times to clear his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he held out his black sword and called, "Serve me."

The earth in front of them trembled. A fissure opened and a dozen undead warriors crawled from the earth. Many of them were old Greek hoplites, but there were a few Roman legionaries with them. Athanasios felt the familiar tug in his gut, though it wasn't as intense as it had been before. A dozen was nothing compared to a hundred.

He held them in place while he summoned another creature on the opposite side of the creek. He pictured the grotesque animal: its razor-sharp fangs, laser-red eyes and enormous body.

Bounding out of the shadows was a hellhound, a creature few demigods could fight on their own. Only the best of the best could survive a fight, and even then, they might end up a little banged up.

"Attack!" he ordered the undead.

Chattering assent, they marched forward to the creek. The massive hellhound leaped over the water and knocked the skeleton warriors into disarray. The middle three were crushed instantly, and the two on each side of them were knocked to the ground. The undead warriors on the outside encircled the hellhound, closing in like a fist.

The hellhound seemed confused, unsure of which way to attack. It eventually decided on attacking the side that the three demigods stood at. It was the wrong choice.

The skeleton warriors responded to orders well. The two Roman legionaries remaining were on their side, and they locked the shields together to brace for impact. They stumbled back on impact, but the strength of their training kept them upright. Then the Greek hoplites clamped down from behind, stabbing the hellhound in three places at once.

The hellhound wailed in agony before crumbling to dust.

Xanthe stared wide-eyed at the wreckage. Athanasios turned to the undead warriors and said, "Thank you."

They saluted in unison before crumbling into separate piles of bones and sinking back into the earth.

"What... was that...?" Xanthe asked, mystified.

"That is the power of Hades," Ionna said. She gave him a smile. "It's scary but quite incredible. He's the strongest demigod at camp when it comes to stuff like that. He might not be the best swordsman, but he doesn't need to be when he can summon an army to fight for him."

Athanasios gestured to the creek. "It took me years to hone this power. I wouldn't be surprised if you could do nothing more than lift just a small part of the creek off the ground."

Xanthe pursed her lips and tried. She closed her eyes.

For a moment, nothing happened.

But both he and Ionna knew that she would be able to control the creek. They waited for the explosion to happen. They didn't say a word, hoping not to break Xanthe's concentration.

And then it happened.

The entire creek rose. It swirled up, a massive icy funnel cloud. He could feel the sudden whirlwind of cold air, as if a miniature sea storm had come.

Xanthe's eyes snapped open, and the creek water splashed back down into the waterbed.

Athanasios turned to the daughter of Poseidon. She stood there, conscious and awake. The only thing that didn't seem right was her eyes. She looked a little disoriented and her eye colour had changed. For a moment, Athanasios saw the true colour of the sea in her eyes—the deep, dark blue of the Mediterranean Sea—but it quickly reverted to her normal sea-green.

"Are you okay?" Ionna asked.

Xanthe nodded with a yawn. "I haven't done this at all before. I'm a little tired. Does this always happen?"

"Only a little tired?" Athanasios asked, a little skeptical.

She nodded. "Why?"

He stared at the young girl. She was clearly younger than him, yet her power... The ocean was a dangerous place, especially if Poseidon was angry or irritated. But a child of Poseidon who would wield power this great...? He looked at Ionna, who seemed to be thinking the same thing he was.

They could never let her brother find her. Because if she joined the legion and used her power against them, with proper training...

It would be the end of Greek demigods.

* * *

**Alright, so that's it for introductory chapters. I think I made it obvious who was to come next.**

**Xanthe (Ξανθή), Leon (****Λέων), and Athanasios (Αθανάσιος) are going to play a fairly large role in this story, hence why I've dedicated whole chapters to their introductions. Percy will make his return in the next chapter. Now, I haven't read the Trials of Apollo series. I've heard of things, like Jason's death, and know there's another book coming out soon (this year?). So _anything_ knew that Riordan has introduced in the new series will not play a role in this story.**

**As a warning, though I don't want to give the plot away, don't expect all rationalizations and motivations to make complete sense. And don't expect Percy to be the great hero, or even anti-hero, that he may have been before. This is intentional. You'll understand a bit more next chapter.**

**Again, thanks to everyone who's reading this story! I hope I can continue to deliver!**

**Cheers!  
Sharky**


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Circa 500 BCE  
Res Publica Romana  
Roma, Italia_

In full battle armor, Percy stepped out into the god's line of sight. Apollo was staring ahead dreamily, his gaze unfocused and a stupid smile splitting his face.

Rage coursed through his veins. The god of archery didn't deserve any glory, any happiness. After what he did, he deserved nothing but pain and suffering. This would be just the beginning. Percy wouldn't stop here. He would destroy _everything_ the god held dear.

Percy grabbed his javelin and hurled it at Apollo.

The god snapped to attention and sidestepped it easily. Apollo's eyes flickered with shock and anger. They seemed to glow as the god summoned his bow.

Percy drew his gladius and readied his shield. He charged forward as the god let arrows fly. Three bolts streaked down from the top of the hill at blistering speed. He raised his shield to protect himself. Grunting as the arrows slammed into the face of his shield, he stumbled but pushed onward. Percy reached down for the little wooden rod hanging from his belt. He shouted and threw it forward. The rod elongated in the air, growing until it was a full-length javelin, and flew toward Apollo's chest.

The god ducked down, and Percy closed the gap.

"Phoebus Apollo, god of the prophecy!" Percy shouted. "Vengeance has come at last!"

Percy jabbed forward, forcing the god to sidestep. Apollo quickly kicked his sword arm away and hopped backward to put some distance between them.

With a growl, Percy slashed at Apollo's unguarded knees.

The god was able to leap back again, but at this distance, Percy no longer needed his shield. Tossing it to the ground, he used his free hand to draw the dagger strapped to his left hip and threw it at the god. It struck Apollo, opening a cut as it glanced across his shoulder.

As Apollo stared at his wound incredulously, Percy lunged forward and slashed across his chest. Percy kicked him backward.

"Who are you?" the god demanded angrily as he fell to his backside.

Percy disarmed himself. He threw his gladius to the side. He saw Apollo's eyes flicker down and anticipated the strike. The god lunged out with a leg to kick him, but Percy caught it mid-strike. Percy quickly straightened the god's leg and drove his elbow down on the joint, forcing it to bend unnaturally.

Apollo howled in pain.

Percy dropped the god's leg and took a step backward.

Apollo stared up at him in rage and wonder. "What are you? Who are you?"

"You can say an old enemy," Percy said coldly. At Apollo's confused look, he laughed and brought his hands to his helmet. "If you truly want to remember..."

He took his helmet off and tossed it to the side. He stared right at the god, letting him see his sea-green eyes. He reached into his messy hair and produced the old hair clip. At his command, it suddenly elongated into a three-foot-long bronze sword. It was Anaklusmos, his prized possession. He tapped his bracelet, and it spiraled out into a beautiful shield. Carved into the shield was a terrifying image of Medusa's face. The copy of Aegis hadn't aged a day since Athena gave it to him.

He saw the look of recognition in Apollo's eyes.

"You tricked me, remember?" Percy growled.

Apollo flinched, clutching the side of his head. His clothes flickered from Roman to Greek, from warlike to carefree.

"Remember when you got Aphrodite to trick me to 'raping' her? Think Greek."

The flickering faded as the god settled on his Greek form. His eyes were wide with fear and understanding. "Perseus."

"Here's a taste of your own medicine," Percy snarled.

Before Apollo could even make a sound, Percy drove Anaklumos through Apollo's chest, straight into his heart. The image of the battlefield at Troy flashed in his eyes, as he remembered how he had done the exact same thing to Apollo during the war. Carnage, bloodlust and death overwhelmed all his senses, and he pushed Anaklusmos into Apollo's chest all the way to the hilt.

"You..." Apollo was holding onto his wrists, shuddering in pain and shock, trying to push the sword out of his chest. "You..."

Percy yanked the sword away with all his might, letting the god's body flop to the ground. Golden ichor pooled around the god, staining the ground as the pool turned into a lake. Then the god began to glow, and Percy averted his eyes as Apollo flashed away.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then, just as suddenly, his head began to pound, like something was trying to burst through his skull. Percy collapsed to his knees and screamed as the flashbacks began. The memories of the land beyond the gods flickered in his mind. The pain. The devastation. The destruction.

When his mind cleared, he found himself lying in a fetal position. His head was tight with pain, pounding at the same rhythm as his heart. His senses were heightened beyond his normal capacity, like he'd been infused with enhancement magic. His right hand twitched uncontrollably, as he took shaky breaths.

"Why now...?!"

Percy bit down hard on his tongue, trying to draw himself back from the memories. The pain began to fade as blood filled his mouth. Percy spat it out. His tongue began to swell, but that was hardly noticeable compared to the flashbacks.

"You're going to turn into a mania if this goes on much longer," Percy told himself, trying to calm his nerves. "Calm down. Just think logically. Think logically."

His heart rate calmed down. His breaths evened out. He pulled himself away from the past, latching himself to the present and _only_ the present.

Percy looked out at the city of Rome. He could see a tall figure marching out from the town, donning full battle armor. Even from a distance, Percy could see his height and stature. It was no ordinary Roman. It was Mars himself.

In a head-on battle, Percy didn't stand a chance against the Roman god. Mars had absorbed all the strategy and smarts of Athena. Word must have spread quickly through Olympus.

Percy deactivated all his weapons.

Wounding Apollo was just the beginning. Percy would be back. He would wait for the right timing to destroy Rome. Bringing down an entire people on his own wasn't going to be easy. But it had to be done. Rome could not... would not survive if he had anything to say about it.

Percy turned around and disappeared into the wilderness.

* * *

_Circa 240 BCE  
Res Publica Romana  
Syracuse, Sicilia_

"You _are_ going insane," Irene chastised. She helped him into the mathematician's study room. "If you continue trying to kill everyone who stands in your way, you _will_ turn into a mania. Face it, Percy. You can't keep trying to do this alone. How many times have you failed?"

Percy glared at her. Half of his body was beyond his control. He was going mad, slowly but surely. He wanted to fight, but he couldn't find the strength. He knew what Irene was saying made sense, but part of him wanted to distrust her. Part of him wanted to kill her.

"He's in quite the predicament," Archimedes observed.

The son of Hephaestus had stopped his work for them. He glanced at Irene and beckoned for an explanation.

Irene told him about the symptoms.

"And you have come to me because...?" Archimedes trailed off.

Percy took a shaky breath, and feeling returned to the numb-half of his body. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he said, "I need your mechanical expertise."

Archimedes gave him a puzzled smile. "Well, I don't suppose a mortal son of Hephaestus could solve a medical problem any better than an immortal son of Apollo. I hear Asclepius invented an elixir that can revive one's soul from the dead."

"It's not entirely medical," Irene said, eyeing Percy out of the corner of her eyes. "It's mental. I don't expect you to know much about the transition from human to spirit—"

"As you should," agreed the famous engineer. "I deal with the natural world and machinery that can help us better understand it. Not the human body."

"Like that screw you popularized," Percy mumbled.

"Yes." Archimedes stared at the two of them. "But the two of you, who have been living for centuries, should know more about medicine than I. I have not studied the composition of life or the properties of the matter which makes up a living organism. What was it that Hippocrates called them? Humours?"

"He's wrong," Percy said. "There's more to living organisms than that. But I'm not here to discuss the composition of living organisms. I'm here to discuss machinery."

"Machinery... for pain within your mind?"

"I've travelled the lands beyond the gods." Percy grimaced and clenched his fist as the pain returned. "I've seen terrible things, things that would make even the strongest of men go insane. I have endured much, but little would have been possible had it not been for being a son of Poseidon and for having learned how to use magic."

Irene leaned against the wall. "It's a miracle you actually returned alive. Given how long you were gone."

"Exactly." Percy held up his arm, where a nasty bruise had formed. With his other hand, he extended his fingers and laid them gently along the bruise. He summoned the magic within him and healed the bruise. It slowly disappeared until the color faded and his arm returned to normal. "I can heal myself to that extent. Small bruises, cuts. I've harnessed the ability to shroud myself in Mist, powerful enough to even fool demigods."

Archimedes stroked his beard. "And how, exactly, does magic have anything to do with my mechanical expertise."

"I'm getting there," Percy assured him. "With the memories haunting me, threatening to turn me into a mania, I need some sort of outlet. I need something that I can filter my emotions through. I need something to soothe my mind, to calm me down. I was hoping that you could come up with some sort of invention to help me, some sort of machinery that I can enchant."

"Enchant? Like how?"

"Like putting a part of me inside a machine or contraption or something."

"You mean... like the rumors of Daedalus?" Archimedes' eyes lit up like he'd discovered a brand new idea. "The mixture of machine, man and magic?"

"The rumors of Daedalus?" Percy asked.

Irene nodded. She pursed her lips. "When you were in exile, during the invasion of Achaea by the Dorians, people stumbled upon an underground lair on Crete. I've investigated it myself. I convinced Homer, the one who told the story of the Trojan War and Odysseus' journey back to Ithaca, to omit the passage from his stories. The stories claimed Daedalus had somehow survived and transferred his soul into the body of an automaton he'd built. The gods were in a state of turmoil with the fall of Mycenaean Greece. They weren't in any condition to do much, so it was up to the few of us remaining to cover up all the stories."

"How much changed in the time I was gone?"

"A lot. You were never mentioned in stories of the Argonauts and the Trojan War. Your name was erased from the history books. Likely Zeus' will after you were banished. Just like how my name was removed from Trojan history. A traitor to my brother."

"If the rumors about Daedalus are true, then it is possible to fuse magic and machinery," Archimedes said. He stepped forward. "Even if history does not remember your names, _I_ will not forget the Everlasting Hero and the Champion of None."

The son of Hephaestus scrambled over to one of his workbenches and fiddled around with some of the devices on his desk. After a brief pause, Archimedes turned around and held out a small device. It was a mechanical sphere with a groove running around its center. Archimedes grabbed the sphere on either side of the groove and twisted. The two halves of the sphere turned in opposite directions, transforming the groove into a gap the width of his little finger. A white mist escaped the interior of the device. It rose up and evaporated into the air.

"How did you trap the mist inside there?" Irene asked in amazement.

"It's a little trick to rapidly cool down and store water vapour," the inventor grinned.

He explained how he was able to accomplish such a task with a bunch of terms that Percy didn't understand. Percy just stared at him and nodded, as if he knew what was going on.

When Archimedes was done, Percy asked, "So can you do that for me?"

"It depends on what you want to store inside."

"Memories and emotions."

"Memories... and emotions..." Archimedes looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Do you mean to create a copy of your memories and store them inside for others to see?"

Percy shook his head. "No. I mean to strip the memories and emotions down to its bare bones and to keep the vivid details within the spheres. That way, I can stop having these terrible flashbacks. I can work in peace to destroy Rome."

Archimedes glanced at Irene. "I understand that it is not really my place to judge, but are you truly condoning this? It isn't the mortals' fault, is it?"

"Whether Irene stands in my way or not, I will accomplish what I need to," Percy scowled. "Regardless of what must be done to get there. There's no other way to reduce Apollo and Mars to nothing."

"Surely you don't think you can do this on your own? To destroy an entire nation?"

"That's why it's time to get those demons out of my head so that I can finally see clearly. I will find the right path and end Rome for good, even if it takes me a millennium."

Archimedes looked at Irene again. She shook her head and looked away, refusing to answer his questions. Her eyes were an odd mixture of sadness and anger, but he couldn't quite place why she was staying silent. She really was the Champion of None. She did what she wanted, how she wanted, when she wanted.

Percy reached for the old hair clip and walked over to Archimedes. He set the hair clip on Archimedes' workbench. "I also want you to do one more thing."

"What is it?"

"I need something innocuous, like a bronze rod. I want to transfer the power of the sword into that bronze rod and have it activate only by my touch. Each human has a very specific pattern on his or her fingertips that cannot be copied. I want something that can detect the fingerprints so that the rod turns into my sword."

Archimedes held his hand up to his face and studied the prints. "Ah, I see what you mean. There are patterns of ridges."

"Can you do it? The sword and the spheres?"

The son of Hephaestus glanced at Irene one last time. When she didn't give a response, he pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. He didn't look at Percy, keeping his eyes focused on the empty space around their feet. But Percy didn't need eye contact. All he needed was action.

Archimedes spoke, "Stay in Syracuse for a week. You will have everything you desire."

* * *

_Circa 73 BCE  
Res Publica Romana  
Capua, Italia_

"Just watch," Percy told the Thracian. "I'll kill the Roman easily. Tell me exactly how you want me to finish him off, and I'll do it. In return, I want you to begin the plans for revolution. You've pushed it off for too long now."

Spartacus clenched his jaw. "For good reason."

"Well, I want you to start _now_. I hope you'll be watching."

Percy watched as one of the Roman guards strode up to him and gestured toward the arena. Percy gave one last look to Spartacus before standing up and following the guard.

"Why do you even want to talk to such lowly folk?" the guard asked quizzically.

Percy smirked. "Why not? They are human after all. Might as well treat them as such while they fight for survival."

"As if they're real humans," the Roman snorted.

Percy bit back a retort and silently made his way toward the arena. Here, there was no mercy. In gladiator rings, there was only life and death. If you lived, you didn't die. If you died, you no longer lived. It was a simple and cruel fate. They were subject to entertainment, as if watching two men fighting each other to the death was somehow entertaining.

Romans were a brutal bunch. Percy wasn't excusing the Greeks from all the terrible things they did, but killing was not a spectator sport. Killing was horrifying and should only be done if necessary. After Archimedes gave him the spheres, the world had become clearer around him. He wasn't subject to panic attacks, to random bouts of anger and rage. His attack on Apollo and Mars would not be a sputtering fire. It would be a gradual and agonizing, like chaining them to rocks and sending an eagle to feast on their livers each day.

"Do you need any equipment?" the Roman asked as they reached the gates.

Percy shook his head. "I have my own."

"Very well."

The gates opened before him, and he stepped out.

The stands were littered with spectators. It was a small arena. Percy could see one of the consuls watching along, surrounded by a group of patricians and guards. Among them was a relatively new politician that Percy had grown close to named Gaius Julius Caesar.

The young man sought to rule over Rome as its rightful leader, a descendant of Aeneas. Percy had convinced him to unite both the Greeks and Romans in his quest for power. Caesar had agreed, and though Percy could see great potential for treachery, he also saw great potential for strength. Irene, Aeneas' little sister, was one of the most powerful demigods he'd ever known. Caesar had that same fire to him. But he was also weak enough that, if Percy really wanted, he could kill the young Roman and end his dreams and aspirations.

Even though, going by the numbers, there weren't actually that many people in the arena, it looked packed. Word must've gone around that the warrior of a new, up-and-coming politician was ready to fight.

The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears as he waited for his opponent to arrive. Pacing around slowly, he analyzed the battlefield. They changed it for each match. This time the theme was 'wilderness.' There were man-made pools of water and small trees that had been planted, just to add to the fun. He looked over to the building, where the prisoners could watch the match through a barred window.

Percy caught Spartacus' eyes. The Thracian gestured to his collarbone and mimicked plunging a sword downward. Percy nodded. That was how he was going to kill his opponent.

The gates on the other side opened, and a middle-aged man walked out, a confident smile on his face. The man's name was Lucius and he had a reputation for being a brutal fighter.

The gates slammed shut, and Lucius sneered at him.

A loud voice shouted from the stands: "Fight!"

Percy tapped his bracelet, and Aegis sprung to life. Lucius' confident smile faltered for a moment.

If Percy had done his research correctly, Lucius was a former Roman soldier. He'd fought in the army, but he was convicted of treason for plotting to kill his master and was sold into slavery. He was a burly, tall man. Rumor had it that he was actually half-Gallic, which was why he was much taller than the average Greek or Roman.

His strategy was definitely offensive. Lucius used his size to his strength. He wielded a longer sword, not the gladius, and it more resembled a Greek leaf-shaped sword.

Lucius charged forward, holding his sword steadily in front of him. He kept his shield down and thrust forward, using his sword like a Roman gladius.

Percy twisted to the side, avoiding the strike completely. He unhooked the bronze rod hanging from his belt and swung forward. Lucius looked surprised to see a sword appear seemingly out of thin air and barely deflected the strike.

Lucius kicked forward, knocking Percy off-balance. The burly Roman stabbed forward again. Maintaining his footing, Percy deflected the attack with his shield and stabbed forward himself. Anaklusmos was blocked by Lucius' own shield.

The two of them backed off, trying to gather their thoughts and get a better read on how to attack the opponent.

After a brief pause, Lucius charged again.

Percy knew a feint was coming. He shifted his body into the same stance he used when he twisted to the side. Lucius bit on his counter-feint, faking a thrust before slashing across. Fortunately for Percy, the Roman had decided to do a forehand slash for a quick strike. Bringing a sword from one's dominant side across to the non-dominant side, all with his palm facing downward, generated very little power and had almost no support from arm and shoulder muscles. In contrast, a backhand slash that starts from the non-dominant side involves enough rotation in the body, particularly the shoulders, to power through a defense.

Percy caught the blade on his hilt and twisted downward, forcing Lucius to drop his sword. Percy swept his legs out from underneath him before he had a chance to defend himself with his shield. Before he could re-orient himself, Percy had Anaklusmos to his neck.

"Yield!" Percy shouted.

Lucius let out a guttural growl. "Swine."

Percy flicked the point of his sword across Lucius' cheek and slashed down across his shield arm. Lucius dropped his shield and clutched his arm in pain.

The crowd roared with approval, cheering Percy's name, his real name. _Perseus_.

Percy looked up at the consul, who nodded and drew his finger across his neck. Percy looked back down at the Roman.

"On your knees!" Percy barked.

Lucius clenched his fists and obeyed the order.

Percy bowed his head toward the Roman and said, "You lived life the best you could. No one has the right to judge whether your actions were morally justified or repugnant. But you were dealt the wrong hand in your life, and now it is time for it to come to an end."

"I've survived ten years here," Lucius said, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "I've done nothing but kill. I _will_ go to the Fields of Punishment. But what of you, champion of Caesar? Where will you go when your time has come?"

Anger rose to his chest, but he held it in and settled for a strained glare. "Who knows where I will go? But my time hasn't come. And it _won't_ come for a very long time."

Percy brought the point of his sword to Lucius' collarbone and drove it down through the gap until it pierced the man's heart. Percy watched as life escaped the man's lips with the softest touch, like a puff of air. Percy watched as the man's eyes dulled and dilated, and as he pulled Anaklusmos out, the man's body collapsed like a sack of grain.

Percy closed Lucius' eyes as the servants rushed into the arena. Wearily, they dragged his body out of the arena, his blood trailing on the ground. The crowd cheered again as Lucius' dead body was pulled into the prison.

In the prison window, Spartacus wore a smile. They locked eyes, and an understanding passed between them. Spartacus nodded, confirming that he would begin his revolt. Over in the stands, Percy saw Julius Caesar shaking the consul's hand. Caesar glanced over at Percy and gave him a knowing look. Percy held up his thumb, raising his eyebrows in question. Caesar nodded and returned the gesture.

Percy smiled. His new plan had begun. It might take centuries, but he would see to the complete and utter annihilation of the Romans. He would make them great and then bring upon them a collapse even worse than that of the Dorian invasion of Mycenaean Greece. He would make Apollo and Mars watch helplessly as Rome turned into a wasteland, where not even the rats would remember what once stood on the land they scavenged upon.

Slowly but surely, he would destroy them. Thank you, Archimedes. Thank you, Irene.

* * *

**Hey all,**

**I've been bogged down quite a bit this past week with life stuff and work. I've been meaning to keep myself a certain number of chapters ahead of you all, but I haven't met that standard this week. So next week there won't be an update, but I thought I'd give you all a little hint of Percy before the brief break. Hopefully, I'll get things sorted out and updated two weeks from now.**

**I think these are the scenes that give you all further insight into why Percy has had to wait so long to finally tear down the Romans. Not everything goes according to plan, and some plans fail. I decided that the details of those failures wouldn't make for a good story.**

**As well, to address potential questions about the character 'Irene,' I've been debating about whether I should develop her character here or use her as a background character. As mentioned, she is referred to as the 'Champion of None.' If she's incorporated, there's more individual Zo****ë scenes. I don't think incorporating her or not incorporating her changes much of the story other than expansion of depth? I'm not too great at character development lol.**

**Have a great week!**

**Sharky**


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Circa 550 CE  
Justinian Dynasty  
Greek Camp, Macedonia_

"She said... 'I must return home,'" Ionna murmured. "She was studying a map of some kind... muttering to herself in the old tongue. She mentioned Odysseus."

"They say he was really clever," Xanthe nodded.

Ionna smiled at her. "Yeah. The Trojan Horse trick was quite the feat." Her smile faded. "Anyway, she didn't look normal. She was dressed in adventuring gear. You know how the gods used to appear, right? In armour or combat gear, right? She wasn't wearing a dress or formal gear. I guess you could say she was dressed like a commoner."

Xanthe nodded again. "So what was the problem?"

"She was Minerva at the time," Ionna explained. She swallowed and looked down. "Minerva is supposed to be the goddess of wisdom. I hate the Romans as much as anybody... but she looked so different... so broken. She wasn't a goddess of wisdom. She acted more like Nemesis, the goddess of revenge."

Xanthe frowned. "Then that's probably why Thanas said children of Athena are the ones who start these wars."

Ionna wrinkled her nose. She knew it was true, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I mean, it makes sense logically, right?" Xanthe held out her hand and began counting them off. "First of all, we know how the gods are like when Greeks and Romans are fighting. They can't stay in control of their personas. I met my father once, and he could barely hold himself together. Both fought against each other, with each argument becoming increasingly hostile." She folded her small finger over. "Second of all, when the gods do take form, they tend to act like themselves... act under their domain." She folded her ring finger. "Thirdly, there's no source of anger or tension between the two sides that I can think of other than ancient rivalries. Sure, the Greeks destroyed the Trojans, but the Greeks also destroyed themselves afterward. Isn't that why the world became more mortal-focused? There has to be another reason. Maybe it has to do with the fact that Athena was leading the charge against the Trojans. Her hatred probably stems from there." She folded her middle finger. "And fourthly—"

"I think it all stems down to one thing," Ionna interrupted. She reached into her sleeve and produced an old silver drachma. It showed an owl, Athena's sacred animal, with an olive branch on one side and a Greek inscription on the other. "The Mark of Athena. She told me to avenge her. She said she was replaced... sacked. She said she was looted like a trophy and carted off. She said I would find my answer in enemy territory."

"Did you find out what that means?" asked the daughter of Poseidon.

Ionna looked around, as if to check for an uninvited guest. Quietly, she said, "It turns out, as I learned on my trip to Athens, that there was once a statue of Athena there. After all, it is a city named after her. Of course they would build a statue and keep it in the Parthenon. But it was taken long ago, when Rome conquered Greece. Apparently, it broke the Greek spirit and forced capitulation. Greek demigods were systematically executed or assimilated into Roman culture. Only a small band of demigods managed to flee, forming this camp with Chiron. The statue is called the Athena Parthenos."

Xanthe pursed her lips. "So is it in Rome?"

Ionna sighed. "Most likely. Rome was the center of the Roman Empire until Constantine rose to power. After Theodosius' sons divided the empire, Ravenna became the capital, but that wasn't until just one or two hundred years ago. But I'm going to try to check the other cities first, just in case. It might take me a while, though, because I'll have to avoid the Romans."

"Will you be safe?" Xanthe asked. Her eyebrows knotted in concern. "Is it a dangerous trip?"

Ionna nodded. "I think so. If the stories are true, then there's a possibility I might die."

Xanthe frowned again. "Shouldn't you tell Thanas?"

She looked away. Truthfully, she couldn't tell Athanasios. Despite years of bickering and arguing, Ionna couldn't deny that she loved him. And she knew he loved her back. That was undeniable. She couldn't bear to tell him that she was going on a potentially life-ending journey. Especially after his proposal the week before.

He wanted to get married. She'd been stunned and elated at the same time. Yes, she wanted to marry him. They were still young, and their relationship had so much more time in the future to develop. At the same time, they had a war to fight, and marriage would be an impediment. This marriage wasn't like with Empress Theodora, who was secretly a daughter of Aphrodite. She wouldn't be helping the war cause by marrying Athanasios.

She told him to wait until their battle was done... until they had served their duty. If they both survived, they would get married.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that the chances of her dying were high.

"I guess you can't..." Xanthe watched her carefully. She placed a hand on Ionna's forearm. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Ionna found herself coming to tears. "Thank you," she whispered, hoping her voice wouldn't crack. "Thank you."

Xanthe had grown into a beautiful young lady. In the five years since Xanthe had come to camp, Ionna had watched her grow up from a timid little girl to the strong, confident adolescent she was now. She had become more powerful than she could have ever imagined. Yet, despite that aura of power, she was still one of the most humble, caring people she knew.

"Are you still hesitant about your half-brother?" Ionna asked her.

Xanthe stared at her for a moment. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't, but I wouldn't necessarily say... _hesitant_."

Ionna nodded. "It'd be natural. I'd find it difficult to cope with the fact that the brother I grew up with was actually a Roman. Have you seen him since?"

Xanthe shook her head. Originally, she'd only stayed at camp for part of the year. But when her brother was scheduled to come back from Italia, he didn't show up. Even after sending her back to camp, her mother reported that her brother was still missing. After that, Xanthe decided to stay at camp and train, while her mother was to keep an eye out. Xanthe had gone out into the mortal world a few times for missions since then. Ionna thought she might've seen her brother in those periods.

"My mother's been following his legion," she explained. "The Eleventh. She's been keeping me updated. I feel bad because I'm using that information against them, but at the same time, I know my brother wouldn't die. Not yet."

"What happens when you do find him?" Ionna asked. She watched the daughter of Poseidon sadly. "What happens when you both come face-to-face knowing that you're each other's enemy?"

Xanthe looked down. "Honestly... I don't think I could kill him. If... if he turns on me, and I'm alone, I would probably die. He helped me a lot when I was young. He only became distant in the later years. But he's much older than me. He was likely busy trying to find out as much about the legion as possible."

Ionna pressed her lips together. That wasn't encouraging to hear.

"I think... I need another year or two before I could finally fight back if I have to..."

"You're powerful already," Ionna told her.

Xanthe gave her a sad look. "Maybe out here..." She lifted her hand, and a fountain of water burst through the ground. It was salty. "But not in here..." She dropped her hand and pointed at her chest... at her heart.

The daughter of Athena couldn't help but pity Xanthe.

While Athanasios was looked up to for power, Xanthe had been a role model for the younger ones in both power and leadership. As a child of Poseidon, people seemed to admire her more than fear her. After all, Poseidon was more favoured as a Greek than Hades was, either as a Greek god or Roman god. She'd been placed in a tough position... given the burden of responsibility.

Yet she was barely fifteen. She was at the age of marriage for most mortal girls in the eastern Roman Empire, but she was still young and inexperienced.

It wasn't to say Ionna was any more experienced in this life. After all, it had been Xanthe and Athanasios who actually killed the manticore during their last quest. She'd just come up with the plan.

For her journey to Rome, she figured she would spend a couple of years trying to gather as much information as possible. She didn't know what awaited her when she reached the Roman city. If there were Roman guards waiting for her, she wasn't sure she could fight them off herself. After all, she wasn't the type to fight with weapons. She preferred to fight with her mind.

Of course, there was an inherent risk. Like with any mortal, emotions sometimes overruled logic. Just like not telling Athanasios that she would likely die.

"You will be a great hero," Ionna promised, placing a hand on Xanthe's shoulder. "You will save Greece from destruction and be known forever as the heroes who destroyed the tyrannical Romans. You and Thanas."

"The final fight is soon, huh?" Xanthe said morosely. She didn't sound excited to join the battle.

Ionna nodded. "The Twelfth Legion has moved down to northern Italia. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth close in from Phrygia. And the Eleventh are on our doorstep. The time to fight is now."

Xanthe took a deep breath. She looked up at the daughter of Athena with a sad look. "Stay safe. I'm glad I met you."

Ionna felt her chest tighten, as if Xanthe could foretell her death. "You will always be a sister to me," she said back. "I will not fail. I will follow the Mark and bring the Athena Parthenos back to help us win the war."

With a parting hug, Ionna set off, eventually jogging past Viviana and Alexandros, and into the wilderness.

* * *

Leon blasted the hellhound to dust.

Panting, he wiped the sweat off his brow and looked up at the sun. It was an oddly hot day. _A day of grief and remorse_, he thought.

It had been five years since he killed his uncle. The monster attacks had worsened. He'd nearly died out in the woods several times, and each time the monsters were bigger and scarier. His mother always wondered how he'd gotten hurt each time. He never said anything. And fortunately, his mother never noticed that he'd stolen her bronze dagger.

Celestial bronze, apparently, was the metal's name. It couldn't harm mortals. He'd snuck up on the little kids, stabbing one with it. It harmlessly passed through. The children didn't even seem to notice it was a knife. Perhaps it was because he'd tried stabbing them with it. If he just held it, many of the villagers could see its true form. The Mist seemed to work differently with the dagger.

He tried learning things on his own. Since his uncle died, his mother sent him off to Thessalonica to gather supplies that his uncle used to bring. There, he met an old seer, a blind man who knew of the gods. The seer knew he was a son of Zeus, told him many of the old stories, helped him harness his powers.

When he wasn't training himself, he prayed to the Christian god with his mother, keeping her sane and happy.

In fact, over the five years, she'd become much healthier. Her eyes glowed and her cheekbones didn't look as sunken as it had all those years ago. His presence seemed to brighten her mood, especially now that the monsters weren't attacking the village.

He thought about his powers and what the old man had said.

"There's a camp," he had explained. "Far in the wilderness, a camp stands where demigods like you can train to fight against monsters. But these days... these days it is used as war barracks. That camp has turned into a military training center. The Romans march on toward the camp, seeking to destroy the Greeks in a final battle. If they fall, you will become one of the few remaining in the outside world carrying on the spirit of Greece_._"

"I don't think my mother would like the sound of that," Leon replied with a frown.

The seer gave him a sad look. "There will be a time in the future where you will have to make a decision. Your mother's sanity is one option. The other... I cannot say now. It's never good to know too much about your future. But... believe me, Leon. It will be a difficult decision. The fate of Greece lies in your hands. Even if the others destroy more than you... even if you feel like nothing can stop you... there will be a point in which you will save or destroy our world."

Leon stared at him. "What?"

"It may be difficult to believe now, but you will know soon..." The old man laughed. "A sad fate you have been given, but a necessary one. To cleanse the world... just as your father did thousands of years ago. A new beginning... a rebirth."

"What did my father do?"

The old seer smiled. His eyes looked distant. "You will find out soon enough, boy. You will find out soon. In the meantime, the Romans have figured out who you are. They will close in for the kill sooner rather than later. Beware."

Leon found himself thinking about that other girl and the sorceress that saved him after he killed his uncle. He couldn't get those sea-green eyes out of his mind. All he remembered was that she was a daughter of Poseidon.

According to the seer, there were once hundreds of children of Zeus and Poseidon. In the olden times, Zeus and Poseidon were quite busy procreating.

Poseidon's kids included heroes like Bellerophon and Theseus and Neleus, but also included rogues such as Procrustes and Sciron and Phineas. Zeus had more immortal children than Poseidon, but also had his fair share of demigod children. Leon would have been related to heroes like Perseus, Heracles and Polydeuces.

And those were only the best of them. There would have been many more who were lost in history.

These days, supposedly, children of Zeus and Poseidon were scarce.

Leon jogged back toward the village along the river. If remembered what the seer had told him correctly, rivers weren't exactly Poseidon's domain. He was the god of the sea, not the god of water. But the naiads helped him from time to time, and if he was to abuse his power, he would easily have been able to overpower the petite water spirits.

Ever since he acknowledged the Greek myths, he found that things he didn't see before became more visible. It was almost as if the world knew that he was aware of it. The attacks increased in frequency. He could now see nature spirits, like dryads and satyrs. Everything seemed to make more and more sense the further his life progressed.

Looking at the river, he saw naiads swimming alongside him, giggling and laughing amongst each other. They pointed at him and gurgled. He got the sense that they were making fun of him. He remembered hearing about a story where Heracles used a river to clear some stables of horse manure, which ended up polluting the water and killing a bunch of the wildlife. Maybe naiads weren't too fond of sons of Zeus.

He wondered if the naiads would attack him if that daughter of Poseidon were here to support them.

The sorceress, the girl's mother, had come back a couple years ago to try and convince him to go to the safe haven... the camp. He wasn't quite sure himself of why he didn't want to go. There was a part of him that wanted to stay... to help protect his mother. Perhaps it was the guilt eating at him for killing his uncle.

That day, he'd blasted his uncle with lightning for something so insignificant, there was no other label for it other than 'murder'.

He hated that his village was Christian.

Often, he resented it. It went against his very existence. It was why he'd felt so uncomfortable his whole life. But he couldn't abandon his mother. Regardless of beliefs and realities, she was his mother by blood. He couldn't abandon her. After all, he was all she had left.

"Leon!"

He looked up. At the entrance of the village, his mother was waiting for him, waving as he approached. Smiling, he waved back and picked up the pace.

Over the five years, he'd grown spectacularly. Now his mother was a full head shorter than him. And she was far from short. If the village was to measure everyone's height, he would've been the tallest for sure.

He embraced her.

"Did you find any food?" she asked.

He remembered about the bow slung over his shoulder. "Ah... no, I couldn't find anything I could catch, Mother. It seems God's will today is for a vegetarian meal."

His mother frowned but nodded. "I see. That is disappointing, but the Lord's will is the Lord's will."

Before, when she had frowned, she looked old and distraught, as if she had aged fifty years. Now, it only looked as if she was concerned. She didn't look as broken as she used to. That fact made him happy. By training himself, he had been able to help cure his mother from all the pain and suffering he had brought upon her when he was little.

"There are actually visitors," she said as they walked back home. "Men from the army."

Leon gave her a curious look. "Army? Why?"

"They need more recruits," his mother explained. "Especially with that horrible plague that swept through. They say millions of people have died. I'm just happy that God spared us."

_Actually, Apollo was just mad at one of Ares' children and it spread like wildfire_, he thought. But he didn't dare say it aloud.

"I wonder what we could have done to deserve such punishment?" she mused to herself.

He kept his mouth sealed. "So..." He changed the topic of the conversation back to the men from the army. "Why are they coming here for recruits? There aren't many eligible boys to pick from. There are like... three maybe?"

"Three is still better than none," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Ah! There they are!"

Leon looked up to see his neighbour's wife pointing at them, standing next to a couple of men wearing battle armour. They appeared to be high-ranking as they wore bright golden armour, contrasting greatly with the far more common hardened leather of the normal soldier.

Immediately, he felt tense. Even though he had only seen them for a moment, he knew they were enemies. They were Romans... _true_ Romans. After waiting a little longer, and analyzing their equipment, he knew for certain that they were Romans. Instead of the spathion sword, which was a longer and heavier blade more suited for individual combat, they had short swords strapped to their belts. A gladius, it was called. Their armor was also segmented. Soldiers these days wore mail or lamellar armor.

He saw their eyes scan over him and light up, as if they found their target. Well... technically he _was_ their target.

"Marcus!" his mother called out. Her face lit up. "Yes, Marcus, my boy is home! Here he is. Isn't he a strong, handsome young man?"

The one called Marcus smiled. Of the two, he was shorter. His hairline was receding, but that didn't make his gaze any less intimidating. Leon knew that Marcus would easily kill him if they fought on even ground. If Marcus was able to sneak up on him, Leon would be dead before he knew what was happening. And that didn't even factor in his partner.

"My boy!" Marcus extended a hand for greeting. "The villagers have told me much about you. I'm glad to see you're even better than I imagined."

Leon took the hand and shook it. Marcus' grip was vise-like. Leon could feel the contempt in his grasp. It hit him then. The Romans had finally arrived. The five years of practising were over. Everything the old seer had told him was coming to fruition. He suddenly felt scared. For the first time in a long time... since his uncle's death... the thought came to his mind: _I don't want to die_.

"He's the tallest boy for his age by far," his mother boasted. She smiled proudly. "God gifted me with a beautiful boy like him."

Marcus laughed. "Does he take after his father?"

His mother blushed. "Oh, of course. His father was godly." She giggled like a little girl.

"I bet he is," Marcus said. His eyes gleamed, almost maniacally.

"Mother," Leon interrupted. He swallowed nervously, afraid the Roman might suddenly grab his sword and run him through. "Can I go eat first?"

His mother gave him a confused look. "But food isn't even—"

"I'll take care of it," he said quickly before rushing off.

He didn't look back once as his mother called out after him, confusion evident in her voice. He ground his teeth. She wouldn't understand. They were here to kill him. If he survived the first attack, she would become delirious again. This time, he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from her. He could only imagine how her world would be shattered... how she might reject everything and go insane.

Leon swung open the door to their small house and nearly fainted.

Sitting calmly at the dining table, playing with a ball of fire, a familiar woman about his mother's age looked up. At her feet, half-wrapped in some sort of shroud, was the body of a disemboweled young boy. Somehow, it didn't smell like flesh, and none of the blood was staining the wooden floor. The woman put out the fire with her hands before yanking him inside and closing the door behind him. Except she didn't move from her seat. She was using magic. Only then did Leon recognize her.

"You—"

The sorceress smiled. "Hello again, Leon. You might want to listen..." Her eyes turned downward. "Or I won't be able to save you and you'll end up like him..."

* * *

**A day earlier than usual! In reality, it's because I'm going to be busy tomorrow and can't actively update at a good time, but here's the next chapter. Hope you all think it's not terrible! Since it's pretty much a filler chapter.**

**Sharky**


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Athanasios stood at the mouth of the Acheron River, staring out at the Ionian Sea.

Up here, on the surface, the Acheron wasn't as terrifying as it was in the Underworld or Tartarus. Down there, the souls liked to scream and shout bloody murder. After all, it was the river that Charon rode his ferry across to get dead souls to judgment. Still, Athanasios wouldn't dare step into those waters.

He knew the Necromanteion was just a little upriver — the House of Hades.

So what was Ionna doing there?

For several months, Athanasios had waited patiently after Ionna had gone out on her secret mission. He knew he wasn't supposed to know, but the longer it took, the greater his curiosity became. Finally, after months of waiting, the dream came.

But why the Acheron?

Ionna sat on the shore, staring out at the water beside him. She didn't seem to notice his presence.

Sometimes, Athanasios had the power to appear as a ghost through his dreams. But it was a pretty rare occurrence. When it did happen, he usually felt exhausted when he woke up. Sleeping would end up being more tiring than being awake. And it never happened during important dreams. Only useless ones like dreaming of his father torturing damned souls.

There was no boat next to her, and she looked completely at ease, as if she was just enjoying the nice view.

Athanasios wanted to call out to her, to tell her to hurry up and come back to camp. But he knew she couldn't hear him. Instead, he watched sadly as she sat there, a beautiful glow reflecting off her ragged expression.

"Are you okay?" someone asked.

Ionna turned around, and Athanasios followed suit. His heart clenched up when he saw a dashingly handsome young man with windswept black hair and dazzling green eyes. But, oddly, the first thought that came to mind was _Hey, he looks like Xanthe._ And it wasn't just a partial resemblance. It was a full-blown, head-to-toe, everything-looks-almost-the-exact-same type of resemblance, of course, other than the fact that Xanthe was a girl and the person in the dream was a man.

The question of who he was popped to the forefront of his mind, but it quickly disappeared as Ionna spoke.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she sighed. She smiled and looked out at the river. "This place puts me at ease."

"You sound like you're glad to be here," the man said, raising an eyebrow. "The House of Hades? Seems more unsettling than comforting."

"It reminds me of home," she said wistfully.

Athanasios felt his heart jump a little. He knew she was talking about him.

"But the path you're taking now," the man said, "is not one that ends in happiness."

Ionna pursed her lips and stood up. Brushing some of the dirt off her clothes, she turned to face him and frowned. "Do you think I don't know that? I abandoned my home for this. But if I can get my hands on this, we can win the war. You're one of us too. A Greek demigod. That's why you're helping me, right Percy?"

Percy looked down, a dark shadow cast across his face. There was a menacing expression in his eyes, and for a moment Athanasios felt the cries of a thousand or more lives, as if the man had killed them all. "I am... not exactly who you think I am. A Greek demigod, yes. But not just an Athenian. You know your trip will be dangerous. That's why I warned you to take your time. I don't think you are yet ready to make the journey. This is a particularly bad time with the conquest. You will find enemies no matter where you go."

"I knew this when I left," Ionna argued. She put a hand to her belt, where her knife was securely strapped. "I am a child of Athena. I wouldn't impulsively rush off to do this if I hadn't thought of a plan."

"And I told you," Percy said darkly. "You are not ready to face all those enemies. There are more you can even think of, and your final test... I don't know if you are ready to survive..."

"Then what do you expect me to do?" Ionna snapped. Her calm serenity was gone, replaced by anger and masked fear. "I've spent months preparing for this journey. I am already seventeen. If I am not ready now, I will never be ready."

"I say this because I cannot go with you," he shot back. "I cannot help protect you, Ionna."

"I don't need your protection!" For the first time, Athanasios watched her blurt without thinking. "I have a man at home I want to marry. I need to come back from this quest and help us win the war. Then we can live a happy life."

Athanasios' heart soared. If it wasn't for the fact that she was headed out on a supposedly dangerous quest, he would have been lost in his thoughts, staring at her, for the rest of his day. Also because it was a dream.

"Happy life?" Percy laughed humourlessly. "There is no happy life in this war. We need as many of our kind alive as possible or we'll never win the war. If you die, we lose a great strategist and that hampers the war effort."

Ionna shook her head. "No, we can _win_ this war with or without me. Thanas and Xanthe are the two most powerful demigods I have ever met. They can fight this war without me. But getting _this_ is the major catalyst that can tip the war heavily in our favour. That is what this war is for! We have to destroy our enemies so we can live a peaceful life. That is what our goal is."

Percy opened his mouth to argue, but seemed to think better of it. He took a deep breath. "Then I will not stop you, sister."

_Sister?_

Ionna eyed him carefully. "I still find it hard to believe you are a descendant of Athena and son of Poseidon."

Percy's lip curled in amusement. "I find it hard to believe, too. But it's true." He turned to look at something in the distance, but Athanasios couldn't see what he was looking at. "You are not ready, but if you insist, I cannot hold you back any longer. The legions approach the camp. It is time I returned to unite the three. They've grown much since I last saw them."

"And so have I," Ionna said. "It has been over a decade since you saved me from the plague that killed off my family."

Percy nodded sadly. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your father. I brought him to my old hideout, but the sickness Apollo cursed your family with was beyond my magical ability."

Ionna shook her head. "It's fine. You tried."

"Percy," another voice said. Athanasios looked around, but couldn't find the source of the voice. "We should go. They're closing in."

Percy pressed his lips together in worry. He turned to Ionna. "You're strong. But you are not invulnerable. Be careful."

Ionna saluted with a bow. "Thank you, Percy. I will not fail. Like I told Xanthe, I will follow the Mark and find the Athena Parthenos and bring it back so we can win the war." Her gaze flickered to the side. "And Irene. Take care of Thanas for me, will you?"

"We'll try our best," the voice confirmed.

For a moment, Athanasios thought Percy glanced straight at him, as if he was physically there. But then Percy's eyes flickered to something outside his field of vision. Percy brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled, sharp and loud and clear. Two pegasi swooped down from the sky and landed in front of them.

The figure he couldn't see earlier, Irene, shimmered into existence as she pulled herself up onto one of the pegasi. At a first glance, she was the prettiest girl Athanasios had ever seen, but her expression was cold. She kind of resembled what he figured an Amazon was supposed to look like. When she and Percy flew off, the only one that remained was Ionna. The daughter of Athena gazed out at the open ocean and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Thanas. I didn't have the heart to tell you. If I don't come back... I'm sorry."

Then, the dream dissolved and Athanasios' heart nearly stopped.

He'd heard stories about the Mark. Old children of Athena had gone on that quest before; it was suicide. Supposedly, a terrifying monster awaited all those that attempted to take back what was stolen, and no children of Athena had ever succeeded before. Ionna believed she would be the first, but Athanasios had heard enough stories to be scared for her.

Shooting up in bed, he quickly put on his clothes and went to find Xanthe.

She was alone at the lake, smiling at the naiads playing in the water.

"Xanthe!" he shouted, catching her attention.

Her smile faded as she turned to face him. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance and she stood up to meet him. If there was one thing Xanthe was good at, it was being annoying. They had a knack for arguing about stupid things, like which food tasted better and how she had random bleached streaks in her hair. He had a feeling she could tell what he was so angry about, even if it had been months.

"Ionna—"

"Will be fine," Xanthe snapped sharply.

"Why didn't you tell me Ionna left for the Mark?" Athanasios growled.

Xanthe glared back. "Because you'd react like this. How many times do I have to say...? Ionna will be fine. You have to trust her."

"This has nothing to do with trust, Xanthe!" he snapped. He was being perfectly reasonable with this. "_Every_ single child of Athena who has gone to follow the Mark of Athena has disappeared or died."

"Then she'll be the first to return," Xanthe said, sticking her chin out stubbornly.

"And what if she isn't?" Athanasios shot back. "What if she dies without _anybody_ knowing?"

"Thanas, nothing comes without a risk. If Ionna comes back with it, we can _win_ the war. Isn't that what you want? The Romans want to come and take everything from us. If that's the way they want to fight, then we'll fight. We'll find what was taken from Athena and restore pride back to Greek demigods. Isn't that what this whole war is about?"

"That risk is far too great!" He was tired of Xanthe. "You wouldn't understand."

"And so what?" Xanthe grabbed the collar of his clothes. "We can all die at any moment. The Romans are almost on our doorstep. Ionna left months ago. She's safer than we are, Thanas."

He retaliated, grabbing her collar as well. "She is in the heart of enemy territory. I don't care how close the Eleventh Legion is to this place. We are _far_ better off than she is. She has to hide to survive because to everyone she is the enemy. Here, we are safe from those prying eyes!"

"Hey!" Alexandros voice suddenly shouted. "Fish-head and Ghost-boy! Meeting in the War Room!"

Athanasios gritted his teeth. "We'll be there later!"

"Are you cheating on Ionna?" the son of Ares teased, with a bark of laughter.

"Shut up!" Xanthe shoved Athanasios away and lifted the half the lake out of its bed. "Run before I hurl this at you, you lazy slob!"

Athanasios looked up at the water in amazement. He knew Xanthe was powerful, but this... this was something else. He looked over toward Alexandros, who seemed to understand that having a lake thrown at him was a bad idea.

Once he was gone, Xanthe turned toward him. "Shall I throw this at _you_ instead?"

Athanasios glanced up at the hovering liquid. He muttered, "No thanks."

"Good choice," she said quietly. Letting go of the water, it splashed back into the waterbed with a thunderous roar. Even though she hadn't hurled the lake at him, he was still drenched with an unwanted shower.

He wiped his face and flicked the water back at Xanthe. She didn't get wet.

"Let's go to the War Room," he grumbled.

It wasn't really a "War Room" per-say. It was more like a dusty old room they used for meetings and the sort. It didn't have any furniture, so they either stood or sat in a circle on the ground. If he looked closely, he could see that there were spider webs in the corners of the room. The Athena children really didn't like the room. In fact, when Ionna was their representative, they always met in the side-room of the Athena building. Her younger half-brother didn't wield such influence.

"So, what's going on?" Athanasios asked.

Alexandros and Viviana glanced at each other. In that moment, Athanasios couldn't help but think that the two had come a long way. After years of fighting and bickering, they finally got together. Everyone who had been at camp knew that it was just a matter of time, but, oddly enough, the two of them made a great team. They were basically in charge of the camp. From sentry-duty partners to camp coordinators, they ran the whole operation.

It was incredible how much Alexandros had matured. His teasing had become harmless and good-natured, rather than the cruel and brash undertone of his early adolescence. He was also a lot smarter than Athanasios had initially thought.

Chiron stepped forward. His face was weary and tired, as if he'd gone a few nights without sleep. "I fear the Eleventh has found our campsite. We must prepare for an evacuation."

A rumble of whispers filled the room.

Alexandros stepped up. "Look, we know that we should address the whole camp, but this is much easier. If we tried to get everyone together to tell them, it would just be chaos and I doubt we would be able to organize anything. That's why we'd practiced those emergency drills for years. For this very situation. But I need you all to follow these orders specifically. Viviana will explain."

The daughter of Hermes brought out a map of the camp. "Our scouts are in the west, near the town of Lychnidos. They spotted parts of the Eleventh Legion in the town, and on the way back, they saw giant golden eagles flying in the sky near our camp. We sent out another group of scouts, but we're not sure if we'll hear back from them. Since they were in Lychnidos a few days ago, we have at most two days to prepare traps and evacuate. Our target is to escape to Thessalonica where we'll have ships ready to sail for Constantinople. In there, we will have the protection of Empress Theodora."

"It'll take half a day, maximum, to ready the traps," Alexandros explained. He pointed to the western edge of the camp in the hills. "Here, we need Hephaestus kids to set up underground traps and pitfalls. You guys know what to do. While they're doing that, Apollo kids and Hermes kids will gather up food and supplies..." He paused and glanced at Viviana. "No stealing. Equal portions for everyone."

Viviana just grinned.

"In any case," he continued, "you guys need to pack up the horses and pegasi and prepare carts for transport. Horses will leave through the small trail down here." He pointed to the trail in the south of the camp. "They leave no later than tomorrow night. Pegasi can remain longer. Then, I want the rest of the campers to help out here and there where they can. Food, supplies, armoury, traps. Burn the forge down. Raze anything the Romans can salvage something from. When we sound the signal, I need you all to gather your siblings and initiate this plan. You can use your discretion as to what you want to help with. Athena children should be split up evenly, one or two of each in different spots helping organize everything."

Viviana pointed to the northern forest. "Here is where non-carted horses should gather. Children of Apollo and Hermes, with designated leaders from Athena, will circle around and decide whether to launch a surprise raid on the Roman forces. Tell them that this should be done with calculated risk. We don't sacrifice more than than half the number we kill. Period. If there's even a tiny doubt, don't do it. Escape north toward the mountain and down Skopos Pass to get back onto the main road."

"At the center of camp, near the stables," Alexandros said, gesturing to it on the map, "I want our best, most elite fighters." His eyes landed on Athanasios and Xanthe. "That means you two. Along with myself, a couple of my brothers and sisters, and two archers from Apollo. More can join, but ten of us at the most. When the Romans come, we will fend them off with all our remaining strength. Xanthe and Thanas. I need you both to help set up our last trap. At the fire pit near the stables, I need you two to set up a Greek fire trap. This will give us the necessary time to escape. And the Apollo kids we have with us need to be the best of the best. Giant eagles will be upon us before you can blink. They need to be shot down."

_Boom! Boom! Boom!_

Someone was banging on the door.

Suddenly, everything felt real. Athanasios thought about their months of preparation, and Ionna's journey into the heart of enemy territory. Dread and excitement simultaneously rushed through his body. This was it. Just as Ionna was launching her search for the Mark of Athena in Rome, they were launching an evacuation back home. The war was upon them.

"Who is it?" Alexandros barked.

The door swung open wildly. Arxios, one of the scouts that had been sent south to Thessalonica, looked like he'd been through Tartarus and back. His eyes were wild with fear and face dripped with sweat.

"What's wrong?" Viviana asked her half-brother.

At that moment, Athanasios felt a cold dread bubble in his chest. It was another one of those sensations. He tensed up, knowing someone important had just died.

"Thanas?" Xanthe asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

"We misjudged," Arxios said, breathing heavily. "Not all the Romans were in Lychnidos. There's a force of fifty Romans marching from Thessalonica."

"No..." Alexandros' eyes widened.

"And they're headed straight here."

* * *

"Did you have to kill one of them?" Leon grumbled as the raced down the path on horseback.

The sorceress, Xanthe's mother, just smiled. "They would have killed us."

"We have like fifty Romans after us!" he exclaimed. He held onto the sorceress' robes as tightly as he could. The wind whipped past his face, forcing him to squint. "This is not fun!"

"Says the boy who chose to live out in the middle of nowhere whilst knowing his heritage," she pointed out.

They skidded down a rocky path just off the main road toward Lychnidos.

"Where are we going, Sophia?" Leon shouted.

"To the place I took my daughter five years ago," she said, whipping the reins. The horse whinnied and put on a burst of speed. They sprinted through the forest at breakneck speed, and Leon wondered how they were able to not run into all the trees around them. "It's a camp for children like you."

Leon looked up toward the sky. He thought he saw a flash of gold somewhere up there, but he ignored it and focused on the path ahead of them. "I survived well enough on my own."

"A miracle," Sophia laughed. "You must be powerful."

Even though the sorceress had made him flee his village, startling the whole village when the Romans chased him away, he couldn't help but be thankful for her presence. With the Romans there, he was sure that he was going to die. If there was one thing he was more afraid of than monsters, it was those Romans the old seer had warned him about. He knew he would never be able to return to his village without being cast off like the un-Christian demon he was.

Most of all, he felt bad about his mother. Birthing a fatherless child and the child turning about to be some ungodly demon from Hell? That was a seriously bad omen.

The thing was... if the Romans hadn't shown up, and the sorceress had come for him alone, he probably wouldn't have followed her to the camp. He'd been surviving well enough on his own for five years. Surely, he could last longer.

_There will be a point in which you will save or destroy our world_, the seer had said. _To cleanse the world... just as your father did thousands of years ago._

The old seer had told him about the Fates, how they wove the threads of fate, how his life would be dictated by the course they had set out for him. Leaving his home and finally joining this camp, he figured, was his fate.

"How far into the wilderness is this camp?" he asked.

"Far enough that no straggler would stumble upon it even if he was drunk beyond his wits," the sorceress replied.

"So your daughter has been there for five years while you've just been roaming around the world?"

"No." The horse leaped over a fallen log and made a rough landing. "I haven't been roaming around the world. I have been keeping an eye on the Roman legions to make sure my daughter remains safe and to find my son, who went missing. I've also been keeping an eye on you to make sure you weren't dead. I have a feeling you'll play an important role in Xanthe's future."

"Xanthe's her name?" Leon asked. He couldn't remember from the last time he saw her all those years ago. "Doesn't that mean _fair-haired_ or something?"

"When she was born, I changed her hair colour to match my own," she explained. "After a while, when it became clear that she would look like Poseidon in every other way, I changed it back. She was only five at the time, so she hardly remembers it, but I just wanted her to fit in. With her skin colour and her eyes, she was already distinctly different from her half-brother and myself that it didn't matter anymore. I considered changing her name to Zoë, but I figured it would be too much of a hassle for her to learn to respond to a new name. Is it not the same for you, Leon? Why were you named after a _lion_?"

He pursed his lips. "That's a good question."

The forest began to thin out. They were ascending a winding slope on a path wide enough to fit large merchant carts. He blinked. How was this possible? There was no human life out here. In what world...?

Leon froze. So did Sophia. She must have sensed it too. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and instinctively, he whirled around and summoned a bolt of lightning. The air turned cold and thunder screamed across the sky as the flash of energy shot down from the heavens and struck the giant eagle that had dove to attack them.

Unfortunately, summoning the bolt of lightning also meant he'd electrocuted himself and anything he was touching. He was sent flying into the brush as the horse bucked and tumbled off the road. The sorceress also went flying, though he couldn't see where as he slammed into a tree.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground.

Lying dead on the path was a giant eagle, one of the creatures Sophia had briefly mentioned as being under Roman control. It didn't look particularly harmed on the outside, but he could tell his strike of lightning was powerful enough to stop its heart, the thing that pounded in an animal's chest to keep it alive.

Leon grimaced as he walked, his whole body throbbing in pain. He looked around for the sorceress. "Sophia!" he shouted. "Mother of Xanthe!"

After a little while of searching, he found her lying just down the hill. There was a cut on her forehead, and she was bleeding pretty badly from it. He had never dealt with an injury like this on another person before, but he quickly tore a piece off her cloak and wrapped it tightly around her head. She moaned in dazed pain, but her eyes didn't open.

Fortunately, she was a lot lighter and shorter than him. The horse was nowhere to be found, so he had to carry her up the hill.

The farther up he got, the worse the situation got. He realized that even if the giant eagle hadn't snatched him up, the fact that they weren't mounted and Xanthe's mother was practically unconscious was almost as bad. The Romans would definitely catch up with them soon. He could almost hear their forces sprinting up the dirt path.

When he got to the top, he nearly dropped the sorceress.

After cresting the hill, the landscape revealed a small valley, tightly packed between rolling hills and mountains to the north. There was a small creek running through the center of the valley, eventually meeting a lake near the center of the camp. The landscape was dotted with old-style architecture—giant marble columns marking an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater built into the side of a hill, a circular arena—sparkling white even in the cloudy day. Nestled in the woods near the lake were miniature houses, twelve of them arranged in a semicircle around a fire pit. Near the center of camp was a larger fire pit, ringed with torches, with nearby stables for horses and... winged horses?

There was a group of maybe ten people dotted around the main fire, all wearing full bronze combat armour and wielding an assortment of weapons, ranging from spears to swords to bows. But aside from them, the camp looked deserted.

They were prepared for war. They knew an attack was coming. They had evacuated.

Leon rushed down into the valley, desperate to get to the ten remaining demigods before the Romans arrived.

There was an explosion somewhere off to the west, like a battle had commenced.

"Let me down," mumbled the sorceress. She revealed a vial that she'd kept in her pouch. "Help... help me take this..."

He looked up. The ten of them hadn't noticed him yet. If only he could get their attention...

"Please," the sorceress pleaded.

He gritted his teeth and relented. Setting her down, he helped pop the vial open and helped her drink the liquid inside. Suddenly, she looked a lot less pale. Energy and colour returned to her face, but her eyes told him that it was only temporary.

She kept an arm around his shoulders as they stumbled toward the central pit.

"Xanthe!" she shouted. "Xanthe!"

The first one to look their way was a girl with black hair and sea-green eyes. In many ways, she looked the same as she did five years ago when they first met. Same hair, same eyes, same facial expression. But she was _a lot_ prettier than he'd expected. Even in full battle armour, she looked beautiful... almost like an Amazonian warrior. Her eyes widened in surprise and shock.

"Mother!"

Xanthe rushed down to attend to her. Leon couldn't take his eyes off the daughter of Poseidon, and when their eyes met, he thought his heart stopped for a moment.

"Sophia?" A centaur galloped down, his eyebrows knit in worry. "What are you...?"

"I brought him here, Chiron," the sorceress said, pointing to Leon. "I've kept an eye on him like I said, but the Romans had found him. I had to get him out of there. I'm sorry, I had no choice but to come this way. There's no escaping the giant eagles alone."

"Speaking of giant eagles," a tall, muscular man with a long spear said with a tight voice. He pointed up in the sky. "There they are."

The two bowmen with the group shifted to their positions and readied their bows.

"Mother, what happened to your head?" Xanthe asked in worry.

A boy in bronze armour approached, his eyes suspicious. He was a little shorter than Leon, but despite his slim appearance, Leon somehow knew that the boy was strong. He looked about his age, maybe older, maybe younger. He couldn't tell. A dark black sword hung from his belt. Leon looked at his own arsenal; it consisted of a small bronze dagger. The boy was definitely intimidating. It even seemed like the boy recognized him from somewhere.

"It's nothing," Sophia replied. "The important thing is that you need to leave before the Romans arrive. With their standard, you will be no match for them."

More sounds of anguish and explosions in the west.

"The traps are working, but they won't hold for long," the muscular man with the spear said. "Xanthe. Thanas. Deal with this situation. Viviana and I are going to deal with any Romans who cross the line."

Sophia cried out, "No! Don't!"

The man glanced at Chiron, as if to ask '_Who is this woman?'_

The centaur sighed, his tail swishing nervously from side-to-side. "Sophia is an old friend of mine. She knows this world as well as you do, Alexandros, if not more. She has been keeping an eye on the Romans for me and has provided very vital information on their whereabouts." He gave her a sidelong stare. "However, it seems she neglected to reveal to me that there was a cohort of Romans in our path to Thessalonica."

"You never told me that your plan was to flee to Thessalonica," she argued. "I had expected you to flee north, into the mountains and far from Roman lands. Disguising yourselves in Constantinople is dangerous. The Romans frequently travel to the capital."

"Empress Theodora has guaranteed our protection," a girl shot back. Leon figured it was Viviana, as she was standing next to Alexandros. She looked angry that this mysterious woman had suddenly appeared and was interfering with her plans.

Sophia just smiled. "You will see soon enough, girl. The world is dangerous, and not even the Empress can save you when it comes down to the worst of possibilities. Meanwhile, you and your husband-to-be are great leaders for young Greek demigods. So, in spite of our disagreement, I believe it is time for you all to leave. You will not buy enough time for the carts to set out for Thessalonica. The giant eagles will track them down and destroy them instantly. Your safety is more important. Great minds are irreplaceable."

"Mother!" Xanthe exclaimed. She looked shocked that he mother could say such a thing. "You must have hit your head hard. How could you say that? We're trying to save as many lives as possible!"

"Quantity against quality, my dear," the sorceress said.

"The eagles are getting too close!" one of the archers said. "They're carrying advance forces in their talons!"

"We can save this chat for later," Alexandros decreed, stepping in between Viviana and Sophia. He turned to the sky. "For now, we fight." Nodding toward the archers, he commanded, "Fire!"

It wasn't working.

Sure, a couple of the eagles retreated after taking a bad hit, but there were only two archers. The eagles numbered at least a dozen. They were fast and nimble, in addition to being big, and they were hovering at just the right elevation where they could avoid the shots the archers were taking. Leon cursed. Each time the archers missed, the further the advantage swung to the Roman side. They were wasting too many arrows.

And then, just as the blonde-haired, grey-eyed boy noticed, he realized that the eagles were waiting for exactly that.

"They're waiting for us to run out of arrows," the boy cursed.

"You're right, Cyril," the boy with the dark sword, Thanas, noted. "At this rate, we'll have to face them in combat. I'm not sure if they know what's waiting for them here, but we also need arrows for later when the other foot soldiers arrive."

Cyril nodded. He turned to the archers. "Hold your fire and wait for the foot soldiers to arrive. We'll wait for them to land before we—"

_Schlack!_

An javelin cut through Cyril's neck, and the boy collapsed to the ground, dead. Just then, a wave of projectiles rained down on them from the Romans above.

The nine demigods, Chiron, Sophia and Leon scattered as they ran for protection.

"My gods," Chiron said, staring back at the body of his fallen student. He raised his bow to shoot at the eagles.

"Wait!" Sophia shouted. "I can handle this!"

Chiron stared at her incredulously. "How?"

"Leon!" the sorceress shouted. She took something out of her pouch and tossed toward him. He couldn't see it at first, but as it got closer, he realized it was a silver ring. He snatched it out of the air, and the first thing he saw was the engraving on the inside of the ring, an old word spelling... "It's name is Koptos. The Cutter. A gift to you from the Champion of None. Wear it on your ring finger on your dominant hand, and you can summon the blade whenever you want."

Another shower of projectiles rained down on them, and they scattered again. But when the danger was avoided, all eyes on the ground turned to Leon. He put the ring on. It fit perfectly. He summoned the sword and, just as Sophia had said, a beautiful leaf-shaped bronze sword shimmered into existence.

"You are a son of Zeus," Sophia shouted, her voice echoing across the valley. "Son of the sky! Don't ever forget that!"

_Sky..._

Leon looked up at the eagles, which were descending quickly. If they reached the ground, there would be over twenty Romans for the group to fight. On land, the Romans held a distinct advantage. Of the many warriors in front of him, he got the feeling only Xanthe, Thanas and Alexandros were capable of holding their own. If Leon could stop the eagles from getting to the ground... if there was a way he could engage them all at once...

He closed his eyes and felt the gusty wind around him. Perfect conditions. Using the same tug in his gut he used when summoning lightning, he tried to call on the winds. _Son of Zeus, Lord of the Sky!_

And he took off. The winds rushed beneath him, and before he knew it he was thrust into the sky. The giant eagles broke their dive, startled by his sudden ascension. He rose to their height. In that split second, as the eagles flapped their wings, as the winds bent to his will, as those on the ground stared up at him in astonishment, Leon felt like he was the king of the world. The clouds gathered above him, darkening like storm clouds. The air buzzed with energy, building up like an electric charge.

_Now!_ his mind shouted.

And with an ear-shattering scream, he let loose lightning.

* * *

**Hey, sorry, it's been a while, eh? We're still following the Trio, but Percy will appear soon. I might be adding a few more chapters to my original plan due to the fact that the current draft feels a little rushed. Hell, I think everything I've written so far is also pretty rushed. But any feedback is welcome! Y'all prefer a slow burn or 'quick-and-done'?**

**Cheers!  
Sharky**


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Xanthe had never seen anything like it.

It was an amazing display of power. With a yell she was sure even the evacuees could hear, the son of Zeus named Leon let loose a massive blast of lightning. Blue light arced down from the sky, crackling and flickering around him. Thunder shook the air, echoing across the valley with each blast. The sky lit up, flashing a mixture of magnificent blue and dazzling violet.

Nobody said a word. Nobody moved a muscle.

Tendrils of electricity reached out, grabbing every giant eagle and killing them instantly. The eagles dropped like flies.

Xanthe looked across the valley toward the western hills. The Romans who had crested the hills stared disbelievingly at the show of power.

Thanas was the first one to recover. He looked the least surprised out of everyone beside Mother and Chiron. He moved to the fire pit, where they had set up the trap, and began to pull on the strings.

"What are you doing?" Alexandros snapped to attention. He stepped forward in alarm. "The trap is close-range!"

Thanas shot him a glare. "I'm not activating it, you nitwit. I'm triggering it."

"How is that any different?" Xanthe muttered under her breath.

"How do you know it will activate when the Romans get here?" Alexandros demanded, seeming to know what he meant. "How do you know they will even come here?"

Thanas pointed up at Leon. "He'll be here. He'll be their target. He doesn't know about this trap. If we can get him to defend—"

"No!" Mother called out. "You cannot sacrifice him like that."

"We hardly even know him," Thanas shot back. His eyes seemed darker than usual, and Xanthe couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about Ionna heading off to Rome. "What matters are the lives of those we're evacuating."

Xanthe watched Mother carefully. Over the past few years, she'd seen a side of Mother she'd never expected. Back when she was young, her mother always wanted to live the simple life. She worked, shopped, ate, slept. It was ordinary, like the lives of all those annoying women in the markets. She had always given way to the desires of others. She was pacifistic and agreeable. Now, she remained steadfast and stubborn. It took her a few years, but she realized that _this_ was her real self. She was not a meek woman.

She looked back up at the sky, where giant eagles fell freely, unmoving as they hit the ground. The son of Zeus started to come back down, looking tired and drained. She knew the feeling. When she summoned the lake to bend to her will, it made her feel tired from using up her energy. Also, the nagging from the naiads afterward only made it worse. If she was a boy, they wouldn't have complained, but no... she just _had_ to be a girl.

Part of her agreed with Thanas' sentiment. If they could use him to escape, everything would be alright. At the same time, it seemed like such a waste to let such a powerful demigod die like that. She thought of the tendrils of lightning flickering in the sky and the fallen eagles. If they could get more and more of that...

Xanthe looked at her mother. That was probably what she wanted. Mother wanted this Leon boy to fight with them.

"No, Thanas," she said, stepping forward. "We need to keep him alive. He'll be a useful ally."

Thanas glared at her as if she'd punched him.

Leon landed and fell to his knees. He breathed heavily, as if he'd just run a marathon.

Xanthe couldn't help but feel strongly for the boy. She remembered vaguely that they'd met before. Back when Mother was taking her to camp, they'd run into a son of Zeus. Their last interaction had been a quick 'Stay safe' before never seeing each other for years. Plus, it helped that he was tall and handsome.

She rushed over to him and knelt by his side. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a hand on his back.

Leon looked up and gave her a weary smile. "I feel really tired. But otherwise I'm okay."

"That was smart, taking out their eagles," Viviana said, looking at the empty skies. "There will be a few headed toward our convoy, especially since we sent them south. It'll be a difficult journey to Thessalonica, but destroying their main contingent makes our archers' jobs much easier."

"They will no doubt send some units around to encircle the convoy," Alexandros agreed, "but our cavalry units should prevent an attack from getting out of hand."

"Although I now see why there were Romans to the south," Viviana pointed out.

Thanas was still staring at Xanthe, and the daughter of Poseidon couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to figure out a plan.

Their intention was to spring the trap just before the Romans reached the center. While not all of them would attack, reports were that the Romans wanted to burn the camp down as a symbol of victory, regardless of how many actual Greek demigods were harmed in the process. With that, they would escape in four waves: Alexandros' siblings; the archers and Cyril; then Alexandros and Viviana with Chiron; and finally herself and Thanas on the last two pegasi.

Her mother's appearance made their plan fall apart.

Clearly, she was in no condition to fight. Xanthe was worried about what had happened to her, but she knew this wasn't the time. By the looks of things, there were a lot fewer Romans attacking the heart of camp than the reports suggested. If there were roughly two-hundred fifty members of the Eleventh Legion, maybe only twenty-five at the max were actually attacking through the hills. Xanthe didn't know how many had died in the traps in the hills, but not enough, it seemed.

"Fifty Romans are chasing us," Leon said. He pointed in the direction that he'd come from. "They're cresting the hill. I... I took down their scouting eagle. They don't know where the evacuees went."

Just as he pointed out, a group of Roman soldiers appeared atop the hill leading down to the southern path they'd originally planned to use.

"And they have the standard," Mother said. She clenched her teeth and paused, looking like she was in pain. "If they use it in battle, everyone will die except Xanthe."

Chiron looked even more worried. "This does not bode well."

"Why?" Leon asked. He'd managed to pull himself to his feet. Xanthe slowly stood up next to him. The son of Zeus gripped the sword in his hand. "What's wrong with the standard?"

"A legion's standard is a symbol of power," Mother explained. Everyone gathered back near the fire pit, preparing to line up their defenses. "Many of them are gifts from the gods. Roman legionaries fight with renowned power when they have their eagle standard. The Sixth Legion Ferrata was one of Rome's most powerful legions. The Ironclad Sixth had the She-Wolf as their symbol. Could scare opponents and devour them."

"Fourth Legion Flavia Felix," Chiron said morosely. "Vespasian's lucky fourth had a lion as their emblem, much like the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Gemina twin legions. Twentieth Legion Valeria Victrix had a boar as their emblem, the symbol of Mars. Twenty-first Legion Rapax, blessed by Mars and Diana, were predators on the battlefield. But the legions that were most dangerous, perhaps not to mortals, but to anyone who knows our world, were the Eleventh, Twelfth and Thirtieth."

"Claudia, Fulminata and Ulpia Victrix," Mother nodded.

"Trajan's victorious Thirtieth?" Alexandros asked. "Was that what it was called?"

A shadow passed over Chiron's face. "They became irrelevant as the Eastern Roman legions began to reform. Their last task was in southern Greece. Few demigods are aware of this fact, and even fewer mortals. Some two hundred years ago, there was a massive earthquake and tidal wave on Crete. Despite the power of Jupiter harnessed in their eagle standard, they were wiped out in the destruction."

"Then why is it so dangerous for us?" Leon asked.

Thanas, who had finally turned his attention away from Xanthe, spoke up. "Because those legions were the ones that were responsible for the deaths of thousands of Greek demigods over the past few hundred years. More than thousands, even. If you saw the carnage and death ratios, you wouldn't like your chances either."

"It is not impossible to defeat them," Chiron added. "Just terribly unlikely."

"Which is why we haven't been able to defeat them for hundreds of years," Thanas agreed. He stood tall. "But that changes today."

"No, you are not ready," Mother warned.

Thanas snarled. "Try me."

"Claudia!" came a distant shout.

And for a moment, the world stopped moving.

Then, in a show of power as amazing as Leon's, the world began to shake. The winds around them picked up, spinning like a funnel. The air smelled salty, as if they were near the ocean, and Xanthe realized they had summoned a sea storm and an earthquake with just an eagle standard.

Everyone became disoriented, squinting and helplessly trying to use their arms to block the wind. The ground left them unstable, and a few of Alexandros' siblings fell to the ground. The only one who wasn't affected by this... was her.

It was almost as if the storm decided it wouldn't attack her. The ground around her shook, but the ground remained stable exactly where her two feet were planted. The Lord of the Sea, Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. _Everyone will die except Xanthe_, her mother had said. At that moment, she knew what gift the Eleventh Legion had been given.

"Neptune!" she yelled. "Their emblem!"

"For Rome!" came a cheer from the twenty-five or so Romans left at the western hills.

Xanthe tried to quickly think of a plan. From what she knew about the legions' standards, each of them granted their respective legions different powers. Some were given powers of destruction. Some were given powers of enhancement. The Eleventh clearly used theirs as a distractor. While their power could kill enemies, it wasn't nearly as lethal as something like a lightning strike of Fulminata. But the point wasn't for them to incinerate their enemies. The Eleventh threw their enemies off-balance and disoriented them. The legion itself would then come in for the kill.

"Thanas!" Xanthe shouted. An idea formed in her head. "Summon a cohort!"

The son of Hades, gritted his teeth. He nodded in acknowledgement, although it seemed he was struggling to fight against the wind and earth-shaking. He pointed toward the twenty-five at the western hills. She smiled. Xanthe was thankful that Thanas loved a daughter of Athena. He knew exactly who to target.

"Go!" she nodded.

Thanas went off to defend the hills.

Suddenly, Xanthe felt powerful. She'd never been in control before. She'd always followed orders. After all, she was one of the youngest of the leaders at camp. Turning to Leon, she shouted, "Use your wind powers!"

Leon turned to look at her. "What?"

"Use your wind powers!" she shouted again. She pointed toward the line of advancing soldiers to the south. A dozen of them had broken off the line and advanced. "We're going to meet them halfway!"

"I don't know how!" he shouted, struggling like the others against the wind.

"But you just flew!" she exclaimed.

Leon laughed. "Trust me, I have no idea how I did that!"

"Well... do it again!"

He no longer held the sword Mother had tossed to him in his hands. The ring was still on his finger, but his hands were preoccupied with holding the wind away. Closing his eyes, he began to concentrate.

Xanthe was getting antsy. She was surprised to see Leon struggle with harnessing the winds, considering the ease with which he was able to shoot up into the sky and let loose an enormous storm. But then again, he _had_ blasted more than a dozen giant eagles out of the sky. He was probably more fatigued than he looked.

She began to wonder how powerful he was to have been able to survive in the mortal world without any help, but she figured Mother had helped him.

Together, they advanced.

Chiron shouted something at them, but it was lost in the wind. He was supporting her mother; she had lost the strength to hold herself up.

"Let's do this!" she shouted at Leon, growing desperate. If they didn't knock down the person holding the eagle standard, all of them would be dead. She couldn't let that happen. Drawing her sword, she bellowed, "For Greece!"

"Be careful!" Leon warned her. He pointed at the man who looked like the leader. "He's dangerous. Don't engage him alone."

Xanthe nodded. "Stay safe," she told him.

He grinned. "You too."

He and Xanthe burst into action, propelling themselves out of the storm and into battle with the dozen Roman soldiers. Leon started the engagement, blasting them with a hot, blue light. The center fell back, feeling the effects of the blow. Xanthe noticed the flanks had kept advancing. It was just a half step, and would have been in line with the center had it not been scorched by Leon, but Xanthe saw her opening. She darted forward, getting as close to their shields as she could without getting stabbed.

She positioned herself right between two Romans and feinted a slash upward. As she expected, the Roman to her left extended his shield to protect himself. In the process, he stopped his partner from stabbing her. Using as much strength as she could muster up, she swung her sword across and caught the partner straight across the side of the head. There was a huge dent in the side of the helmet, and the Roman collapsed to the ground like a puppet. She rolled behind the Roman line and stabbed her first target.

The Roman line converged on her, seizing the opportunity to surround her.

But Leon blasted them with another burst of electricity.

"Go!" he shouted.

Leon burst into action with newfound energy, now summoning the winds like it was second nature, throwing the Romans into disarray.

"_Pila_!" the leader shouted.

Xanthe turned to find a shower of javelins hurtling toward her. She cursed and dove out of the way.

The Romans advanced like a military machine. A new line formed in front of her. Behind her, the Romans had formed a wedge, figuring out Leon's tactic and pushing against him with their strength in numbers.

She just needed to get that eagle standard, and then they could retreat.

With a yell, she summoned the lake again and brought it to the battlefield. Hurling the water at the Romans, she ran forward to engage their broken lines. She stabbed two who had fallen to the ground, and challenged the other four around her. She rolled beneath their strikes, hacking and slashing at their legs where she could.

Exhilaration pumped through her body as she cut down half a dozen more Romans.

Behind her, Leon had succeeded in breaking the Roman formation. He cut down the last Roman before falling to his knees in exhaustion. His eyes crackled with fading energy. She got the message: _You're on your own._

Looking forward, she heart sank. There were still many Romans left. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to get to the standard.

Another line of Romans approached her. This time, she had to back away. She couldn't summon another lake—partially because there _wasn't_ another lake—and the river was too far away. She looked back at the fire pit. The others were still struggling.

"Curse you," Xanthe growled.

Then, the ground around her erupted. A half dozen skeleton warriors clawed their way out of the ground. Xanthe whipped her head around. Thanas gave her one last desperate look before he collapsed to the ground.

"Thanas!"

Xanthe looked over. A pile of dead Romans were strewn across the ground. Some of them had gotten through, but they looked a lot more disheartened than they did before.

She retreated and let the skeleton warriors protect her.

Their plan was failing.

The Romans, albeit with heavy casualties, continued to advance. Xanthe gritted her teeth again. If only Leon hadn't wasted all his power blasting those eagles out of the sky, he would've been able to help her more.

_You would be dead if he hadn't blasted those eagles out of the sky_, the rational part of her brain argued.

As the last skeleton warrior fell, Xanthe felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to strike whoever had touched her only to find her mother staring at her with wild eyes.

"I'll handle it from here," she said. "You must go."

"Mother?" she said, flabbergasted.

With a last bout of energy, she summoned a ball of energy and threw it toward the Roman leader, who was holding the eagle standard. He dove out of the way at the last moment. Xanthe could feel the air pressure behind her change, and the group at the fire pit was dropped out of the storm's grasp. In fact, the storm itself completely dissipated.

She saw Alexandros immediately move toward the trap. The remaining few Romans from the western hills had finally made it. A man Xanthe didn't recognize was helping load Leon and Thanas onto Chiron's back.

Mother took a step forward and wobbled.

Xanthe grabbed her arm to steady her. She looked deathly pale and her hair stuck to her clammy forehead.

"You're not healthy," she told her mother. "Stand back. I'll defend you. Get back to Chiron."

"No," Mother insisted. "It is you that must retreat. You must live longer to save your kind."

"I'm not leaving you," Xanthe argued.

"Yes, you are," her mother insisted.

"Make me!"

Her mother reached up and hit her across the neck with her hand. Xanthe stumbled back in shock. Her mother sent a blast of magic at her, and Xanthe felt her limbs start to go numb.

"No..." she whispered.

She couldn't see who grabbed her, but as her mother's paralysis magic took effect, she was slung over someone's shoulder, carried back toward the fire pit, and tossed onto Chiron's back. She wanted to jump off to run back toward her mother, but her arms and legs wouldn't move. Chiron began to gallop away. A strong hand held her down to keep her steady as they picked up speed.

"Mother!" she screamed. Her mouth still worked.

Xanthe watched helplessly as the Romans threw their javelins. Mother was too weak to stop them. She stumbled back and turned away, as if succumbing to her fate. The world around her began to blur, and the last thing she saw before they blasted away at top speed was the fire pit exploding with Greek fire, engulfing the weary Romans and burning at least two dozen of them to death.

Their plan worked.

* * *

Percy yawned as he and Irene approached the four sitting at the dock.

Chiron was the first to notice him. The old centaur looked away with a dark expression.

He expected the reaction. He wasn't particularly happy with the centaur either.

The son of Hades, Athanasios, immediately sprung to his feet. He rushed over to him and grabbed his collar. With angry eyes, he demanded, "Where's Ionna? Why didn't you stop her from going to Rome?"

"Let go of him," Chiron ordered.

The boy complied.

The centaur gestured to the boats. "Help the others load onto the ships. We should move out as quickly as we can."

Leon gave Percy a quick look. Percy could sense intrigue and fear in his eyes, but he seemed to understand that Chiron was the leader of the camp. He grabbed the stunned Xanthe, who had just recovered from the paralysis, and took her and Athanasios away toward the group.

Irene bowed. "Hello, Chiron."

"Hello, my dear."

"Don't misunderstand us..."

"I won't." Chiron gave Percy a hard look. "But I'd like to speak to Percy alone."

Irene's shoulders slumped. She glanced at Percy and said, "Don't do anything stupid. I'll try to see if I can locate Zoë. If any news comes up, I'll let you know."

Percy nodded as she walked back into the streets of Thessalonica. He looked around.

The whole city seemed to be on edge. With news of an invasion by the Sclaveni in the north, Emperor Justinian and Empress Theodora had dispatched an army in Serdica. Percy had hoped they would assign Germanus to the task, given his reputation, but it seemed Justinian still wished to keep his cousin nearby.

With all the fighting on Italia, the Goths had had succeeded in their counterattack under Totila. Belisarius had failed in his attempts to move toward Ravenna like he'd done so near the beginning of the war. Rome had been besieged twice, with the Eastern Romans successfully capturing it just a few days ago.

Italia was nearly a wasteland now, ravaged by war for over a decade. It was partly why he didn't want Ionna to go on her quest quite yet. There was no security and, if she was unlucky enough, she would be caught in the middle of another siege. He didn't like her chances. But it was the only way to convince Athanasios.

"Why are you here?" Chiron asked bluntly.

"Nice to see you too, my old teacher," Percy forced through a smile.

"You are not recruiting them to your desperate, dangerous cause," the centaur said coldly. "They are the first children of the Big Three in decades. You will not corrupt them and use their power for your own personal pleasure."

"It is not my _personal pleasure_," Percy scowled. "You expect me to see the most powerful Greek demigods waste their lives away? They could be the catalyst in this war. Turn the tide. Just as they reduced us to nothing, we can reduce them to rubble."

"I will not allow you to corrupt them," Chiron said, staying headstrong. "There are many things I am willing to tolerate. That is not one of them."

He scoffed. "And what have you done that is praiseworthy?" He sneered. "All you've done is raise pigs for slaughter. You teach them to fight, but you neglect to harness the deepest powers within demigods. You let them grow up and let them fall to the legions. I haven't seen many battles where Greek demigods survive a head-on battle against Roman legions."

"They must learn to protect themselves." Chiron's tone was steely. "They don't need to learn how to destroy others. That will solve nothing."

Percy laughed. "Solve nothing? Have you seen what Lupa does? She lets infants die if they are not worthy. The Romans are trained for survival, trained for battle. They are hardened warriors. Your teaching of Greek demigods is tame and is unrepresentative of what they will face out there."

"I do not teach warriors. I teach heroes."

Percy stared at him. "What's the difference?"

But something in Chiron's gaze caught him off-guard. It was almost as if Chiron was mocking him. As if he was being told 'You are far from being a master.' Percy clenched his jaw. He didn't like the fact that old centaur still saw him as a silly child.

"_Stratiotis_ against an _iros_, child," Chiron said, as if it made all the sense in the world. "A soldier lives to fight. A hero lives to protect."

"I am both," Percy grumbled. "I'm doing this to protect my kin, Chiron."

"I wish that were the case." Chiron shook his head and gave him a long look. "I tried, dear boy. But you are too far down the broken path for me to save you. Only a select few remain, and I hope they find you before it is too late. If you take Athanasios, Xanthe and Leon with you, I can only promise you pain and death the likes of which you have only encountered once before."

Percy immediately thought of his times in the east, though they were fuzzy. He could feel the old memories trying to light up in his mind, but there was a reason he put them away. He couldn't afford to collapse in battle, or to go crazy like a mania.

"This will not end well for you, Percy," Chiron said, both anger and sadness laced in his voice. "I hope you see it before it is too late."

Everyone who had evacuated from camp set sail before the sun set.

A fleet of transport ships left the harbour and made their way toward Constantinople. Judging by the sheer number of people needing to be transported, Percy estimated it would take them a week to sail around to Troas before they travelled up the road past Ilium—which was once Troy—and to Lampsakos, where they would once again board a ship and sail through to Constantinople.

Percy didn't like the idea of sending everyone off to Constantinople, but the quickest route was by sea, and he knew there was no way the Romans would sail en masse to follow them. He just hoped his old brother, Chrysaor, wasn't in the area to loot and sack the boats.

And given the Romans' location back in Heraclea and Lychnidos, Percy didn't want the fleet to sail too far before he could convince the Trio to join him and fight against the Romans.

But night was upon them, and he figured one night's rest wouldn't hurt. He knew it was a mistake the moment he closed his eyes.

* * *

"Percy!" Nabu called out. The young boy, no older than eight, held up a spear. "Look at me! I'm a soldier!"

Percy found himself laughing, reliving an old memory. "That's not a very good way to hold your weapon, Nabu. Your grip is too far down the shaft. You need to keep it balanced." He helped the boy fix his grip.

"Woah!" the boy said, amazed. "It feels so much lighter."

"It's not lighter, silly," Percy corrected. "It's more balanced. Come on, boy. Live up to your namesake. The god of literacy, the rational arts, scribes and wisdom."

"Says the foreigner," the boy teased. He pretended like he was a royal guard and jabbed the spear toward Percy. "You will leave and never come back by order of the mighty King Gilgamesh!"

"Ah, yes," Percy sighed. He gently confiscated the spear from the boy and sat down. "I've heard a lot about Gilgamesh. Why don't you tell me everything you know about him?"

Nabu grinned and grabbed the sword from his belt. He raised it to the sky, like he'd just triumphed in battle. "Great Gilgamesh, an ancient king from the Old Kingdom. He was the ruler of a city-state called Uruk, and he was a very special man. He was two-thirds god and one-third man. He built amazing buildings and made Uruk a beautiful city! He was the strongest man alive. He was more handsome than any other man in existence. And he was very wise. But he was cruel and unforgiving. He would take anything, any woman, any man, and do what he wanted with them. So, in response, the gods created a wild man named Enkidu, who was just as great as Gilgamesh. The two of them became very good friends, and Gilgamesh was heartbroken when Enkidu was killed by sickness from the gods. This death only made Gilgamesh worry about the fact that he would die one day too. So he was determined to find Utnapishtim, a man granted eternal life after surviving the Great Flood, to find a way to avoid death."

"A way to avoid death? How?"

"That's the point!" Nabu exclaimed. "There is no secret. Utnapishtim gave Gilgamesh a test where he had to stay awake for seven days. Gilgamesh failed right away, so Utnapishtim ordered him to return to Uruk. But Utnapishtim's wife convinced him to tell Gilgamesh about a plant that restores youth. Gilgamesh finds it, but a snake stole the plant when they were camping. The end of the story is that Gilgamesh realizes he, _himself_, will not live forever, cannot live forever. But humans will. His legacy will outlive him, and that's all that matters. Because everything he achieved was the closest thing to living forever humans can dream of."

Percy nodded and clapped. "Wow, that's a great story."

"Do you have a similar story where you came from?" Nabu asked.

Percy pursed his lips. "Hmm. Well, there is a story that's a little bit different. It is sad in its own way."

"Sad?"

"Yes, sad. There was once a demigod, half-god and half-man, named Heracles. He was the son of Zeus, the King of the Gods. He was like Gilgamesh: the strongest man alive, more handsome than any other, and cruel and unforgiving. You see, Zeus has a wife. Her name is Hera. But Heracles wasn't Hera's child. And Hera became jealous when she found out. She sought to make his life as miserable as possible. When he was a little boy, she sent a snake after him to kill him. But since he was so strong, he actually crushed its neck with his hands and killed it. Eventually, he got married to a princess, Megara. Hera made him go insane, and he killed Megara and their children. When Heracles was cured of his insanity, he realized what he had done and when to the Oracle of Delphi, which can see the future."

"Woah..." Nabu said, amazed. "Did this Oracle tell him what was going to happen to him in the future?"

Percy shook his head. "No. The Oracle tells you what may lie ahead in the future. But this time, Hera controlled the Oracle. She told him to go to a king named Eurystheus for ten years and perform any task Eurystheus told him to do. In the end, there were twelve tasks." Percy raised his fingers to count the labours as he spoke. "The first was to slay the Nemean Lion, which had invincible skin. The only way to defeat it was to get it to open its mouth and kill it from there. The second was to slay the Lernaean Hydra. It had nine heads, and if you cut one off, two would grow back. So Heracles had to burn the stumps after cutting off a head to stop it from growing. The third was capturing the Golden Hind of Artemis. Artemis is the goddess of the wilderness, and stealing her favourite animal is not easy."

Percy listed the remaining labours before circling back to the one that lingered in his mind.

"The eleventh task, which I saved for last, is something I think was Heracles' most difficult task," he said. He paused and took a deep breath, recalling everything that happened back then. "He had to steal golden apples from a garden far to the west, where the earth meets the sky. The garden had two layers of protection, no, three layers. The first was a giant drakon named Ladon, who had exactly one hundred heads and a poisonous bite. The second were the Hesperides, the true guardians of the garden. The third was the Titan Atlas. He had been the general of the Titan army when the gods fought the Titans, which is another long story. His punishment for losing the war was that he had to hold the sky. You see, if the sky and the earth meet... well, everyone would die. In any case, the story most people know is that he couldn't defeat Ladon, so he went straight to Atlas and tricked Atlas into getting the apples, tricked him again into holding up the sky, and escaped before Atlas could summon Ladon. But that's not the full story."

Nabu stared silently, fully engrossed in the story.

Percy grabbed Anaklusmos out of his hair. It grew into a familiar bronze sword, and he held it out for Nabu to see. "This is the same type of sword that was given to Heracles to defeat Ladon. Heracles tried to fight Ladon twice. The first time, he failed with his fists. The second time, he was given a sword by one of the Hesperides. She betrayed her family to help a hero. In the end, however, he still could not defeat Ladon because of the curse bestowed upon the sword. The nymph who created this sword betrayed her family, so the sword would only bend to the will of a demigod, god or spirit connected to the sea. Heracles never _could_ win with the sword. As compensation, Heracles assaulted the nymph when he finished his quest and left, betraying her."

"She shouldn't have helped him," Nabu said, crossing his arms. He frowned, as if he was angry for Zoë. "What happened to her?"

"She became a huntress," the son of Poseidon smiled. "Free from her horrible past, away from civilization."

"How many other lives did Heracles ruin?" the boy asked.

Percy turned to face west. He gazed sadly out at the desert that stretched out to the horizon. "Many lives. More than you can count."

"So he _is_ like Gilgamesh," Nabu muttered. "A great hero, but with many mistakes."

"Isn't that what a hero is?" Percy laughed. "Someone who is admired for courage and outstanding achievements. A brave person."

The boy nodded. "Yes. My father always tells me that a hero is not always the good guy. He says that one man's hero is another man's villain. That, in the world, there is no good or evil. At least, no overall good and no overall evil. Who says my father can't be evil in the eyes of the Assyrians? But he is a hero to me. He fights for the Babylonian people, even if the Assyrians refuse to recognize us."

He stared at the. "For a young one, you are wise."

Nabu smiled. Suddenly, his gaze shifted behind him. The boy jumped up in glee and shouted, "Father!"

Percy stood up and turned around. A man about twice Percy's physical age laughed and hugged his boy. He bore new scars, one along the side of his left eye and another on his chin.

"Ubar. What brings you back so quickly?" Percy asked.

Ubar smiled at him, but his eyes were full of worry. "Let us get back to the house first, yes? We'll bring Nabu back to the family and you and I can discuss other matters upstairs in my quarters."

Percy nodded and followed them back to Ubar's house.

Ubar was a rogue soldier. The king, Nabu-shum-libur, was clearly in his final days of rule. The Aramean incursions were growing far too strong for him to deal with. The collapse in the west had displaced thousands upon thousands of people, and many of the Arameans fled toward Assyria and Babylon. Percy couldn't speak for Assyria, but Babylon was on the verge of collapse. The king no longer had control of his army. The armies at the edges of the kingdom had gone rogue, following their own command instead of the kings.

Percy didn't like their chances, but Ubar was one of the best fighters Percy had seen in this region of the world.

The Arameans were close. Reports had been coming in for weeks, but it seemed it was finally time for the raiders to attack.

"They will be here any moment," Ubar warned him. "The advance scouts. Their army already has engaged our forces to the west. Without direction from the king, we can only hold them off for so long. Many of us have been killed. My partners are going around the town tonight warning of the impending attack. In the night, when the moon glistens brightly in the sky, the town will begin evacuation."

Percy nodded. "I'll be mindful. Let me help you fight off the scouts."

Ubar shook his head. "I care not for where you came from and your claims to mastery of weapons. You promised me that you would protect my family."

_Yes_, Percy thought. _I need help destroying Mars and Apollo. The more people I can bring home, the better._

"Of course," the Greek demigod acknowledged. "But if the scouts break through..."

"So long as it is to protect my family," Ubar affirmed.

Percy nodded.

Ubar pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Then let us begin."

The scene shifted to the evacuation. Percy remembered that it happened, but the details were in one of Archimedes' spheres back in his old home in Athens. Watching it unfold again in front of his eyes was almost as painful as remembering.

"We need to go now," Percy insisted.

Nabu shook his head. "I want to fight. You taught me. I want to fight."

"It is too dangerous!" exclaimed his mother. "No, you must come with us!"

"Brother..." his sister said, trying to convince him. She offered him a hand. "Father will be safe. He will join us when we reach Elam."

Nabu didn't look convinced.

"Go, Nabu," Percy ordered. He could hear the sounds of clashing metal. The Arameans were close. "If you don't, you will die."

Nabu scrunched his eyebrows together. He didn't like it, but the boy was smart enough to know when it was time to give up. He stared at Percy with determined eyes. "You have to follow us, okay? I'm not going to go to Elam unless you're with us."

"I promise," Percy said. The fighting grew closer and closer. "Now go!"

Nabu climbed up, and the cart holding Ubar's family immediately took off. Percy grabbed Anaklusmos and jogged behind the cart, watching for any ambushes set by the Arameans. He couldn't keep up with the cart, but he knew roughly the path it would take. He knew a few shortcuts here and there.

Even though Percy had been in Babylonia for years, and with Ubar's family for three of those, he didn't quite understand the combat tactics of these Eastern peoples. The Arameans were Semitic peoples from the land north of Egypt but south of Greece. If Percy remembered correctly, Semitic peoples had come to Greece here and there in the past, but few of them actually displayed much of their home culture. Zoë would know better than him... how to track them, understand their movements.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He ducked and rolled, avoiding a strike from an Aramean. Percy's instincts kicked in immediately. Swiping his leg across, he tripped up the Aramean and whacked him across the helmet with the flat of his sword. Non-lethal combat was his specialty, even if he could kill when he wanted to.

Out of the shadows, a group of Arameans appeared. All of them wielded spears, circling him like a wolf pack eyeing its prey. Percy scanned around. With the ambush, they had the upper hand. Five of them surrounded him, and they were ready to jab forward at a moment's call. He looked at their stances. They weren't soldiers, he concluded. Not all of them, at least. Two of the five had the proper footwork, but the other three looked unbalanced.

Two of the three were standing side-by-side.

Percy took his chance.

He charged toward them and swung outward to his right. With his other hand, he activated Aegis and deflected the attack to his left. He sliced through the spear with his sword and caught the Aramean across the chest with a shallow cut. The Aramean stumbled back, clutching his wound in horror. Percy stepped in to his left and brought his knee up to the second man's groin. He wailed in pain and collapsed to the ground.

With one side clear, Percy flipped the situation around. His flanks were secure for at least a moment, and Percy attacked the three remaining men in front of him. He knocked them all unconscious and ran back to follow the family's cart.

As he turned the bend about a hundred paces forward, he stopped in shock.

The cart had been flipped over, and Arameans had stormed the area. Bodies lay strewn across the courtyard, many of them belonging to Babylonian civilians. A small fire burned through the wooden cart, slowly but surely growing to life. Ubar was there, to his surprise, lying on the ground and clutching a figure in his arms... No, not just any figure. It was Nabu.

Percy rushed over.

"Ubar!" He grabbed a cloth from his Infinity Pouch and pressed it to the wound in his abdomen. "You..."

"You were supposed to protect my family," Ubar groaned. Percy realized that he was crying. Through broken-hearted tears, he said, "I got word of an ambush. I came. But I was too late. You... you were nowhere to be found. I thought... I thought I saw you surrounded in the back street. But I had to help my family. They... they..." His voice broke.

Percy found himself shaking with sorrow. It wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this. In fact, he'd been a killer before. He'd killed hundreds of Greek soldiers in the final days of Troy. But he promised himself he wouldn't do that again. He couldn't allow the gods to find a way to punish him for killing anymore. Not if he wanted revenge. And he'd been close with Nabu and the rest of Ubar's family.

Ubar's wife and daughter also lay dead on the ground. His daughter was half-naked, her clothes torn and stripped from her body.

Percy clenched his fists.

"Kill them, Percy," Ubar begged as he died. "Before they lay waste to Babylonia. Kill them all!"

A raging hatred burned in Ubar's eyes, pleading with him to exact revenge. Percy couldn't say anything. He knelt there by his side and watched as Ubar parted from the world, holding his dead son in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Percy said, his eyes feeling watery. "I... I can't kill them. I... won't."

And those dreaded words repeated themselves in his mind once again.

_Another man's hero is another man's villain_.

* * *

Xanthe shot awake.

"What's wrong?" Leon immediately asked.

Xanthe took in her surroundings. They were on a boat, about a day away from Thessalonica. They were making good progress, heading toward Hellespont. Next to her, Thanas slept... or, at least, _was_ sleeping. He began to stir as Leon put a hand on her arm.

"Xanthe?" Leon asked.

Right, Leon was on guard duty, she thought. Not that they really needed guard duty on a ship. But at night, who knew what would happen.

She thought about the dream she just had. The mysterious man that Chiron wanted to speak in private to was in an eastern land. She shuddered again, remembering the courtyard full of dead bodies. It reminded her of the last image she had of her mother. Closing her eyes and clenching her fists, her chest tightened.

"Xanthe!" Leon shouted.

She bolted upright, as if she'd been zapped with painful energy.

Leon gave her a sheepish look, as if he'd done something wrong. "Oh... sorry."

"It's fine," she waved off, unsure of what just happened. "I'm fine. Everything's good."

"We have a visitor," Thanas muttered suddenly. She nearly jumped in surprise, seeing him now fully awake.

"Where?" Leon asked, looking around the sleeping quarters.

Just then, there was a knock on the wall. The mysterious figure, Percy, appeared in the doorframe. He stared at Thanas, as if expecting him to grab him again. "Are cooler heads prevailing?"

There was silence.

Percy smiled and sat down in front of them.

"Great! Let's talk."

* * *

**It feels like I packed way too much in here, but it also feels like there's no real way to separate the two sections of this chapter without making one of the chapters extremely short. Man, I'm bad with planning, haha. Anyway, here he is. The man, the myth, the legend. Perseus! Except he's not really back. It's just a 'flashback'. RIP the readers.**

**I may have introduced too many characters, but as I've flushed out what I want to do to end the story, I think they're necessary to bring Percy to where I want him to go by the end of this installment. Bear with me if each of the Trio seem to be fairly shallow characters, especially since the main characters aren't that deep in the first place. They will all play the roles that are expected of them.**

**Cheers,  
Sharky**


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_Circa 44 BCE  
Gaius Julius Caesar - Dictator Perpetuo  
Troad, Province of Asia_

Percy approached the figure standing near the shore.

She turned as he approached, giving him a hesitant smile. He couldn't find in himself _not_ to smile back, as awkward as it was. It had been a while since they last met. Probably before he had met Caesar and Spartacus. She hadn't changed, as usual, though her gaze was a lot sadder than it used to be.

With Zoë as a member of the Hunters, led by Apollo's sister, Irene had become his go-to partner in his quest for revenge. In recent decades, she'd become increasingly ambivalent, which frustrated him.

"You wanted to meet?" she said.

Percy nodded. He stopped about ten paces from her. He didn't feel comfortable being any closer.

"We haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I was thinking you might have pulled yourself off the grid."

"With the Civil War?" Irene scoffed. Her eyes flickered out toward the sea. "As if I would be inactive during _that_. It's practically my job to intervene."

"Fair enough."

Irene didn't look at him. He could see her discomfort. And he could hear the unspoken question: _What's the real reason you want to speak to me?_

He took a deep breath. "I was told that you've been working for the Romans. A couple of the Greek scouts saw someone like you leading a couple of cohorts of the Tenth Legion, a legion that was disbanded last year."

"And so what?"

"The balance of power remains with the Romans. Why are you helping them? You said you would help the Greek cause."

"Depends on what you think constitutes 'help.' I definitely wasn't helping them fight. You're right. _Equestris_ disbanded last year, and they're still disbanded. I was converting them."

"Converting them to what?"

Irene shot him a look, as if he should've already known the answer. "To the Senate's side. To help Brutus and Cassius."

"Why would you target disbanded legionnaires? They no longer have any power."

"They need any help they can get convincing the regular citizens to join their cause. It's why Caesar is so popular. Because the ordinary folk all love him. It's not the nobles that have granted him all his power, though many try to appease him and support him in hopes of being granted higher positions once he _does_ obtain power. But the will of the majority can overrule the wisdom of the few. The Senate is not popular. I'm only trying to mitigate the damage."

Percy pressed his lips together. "I know that Caesar is popular amongst the masses. That's part of my plan. I just don't see how the Tenth fits into this whole narrative. They were loyal to Caesar."

"Not anymore."

"How can you be so sure?" He crossed his arms. "This is like convincing me to make peace with Apollo. I will never. Not after he made Rhode disappear. I'll do the very same thing to him. And like with my half-sister, I'll make sure no one knows he's gone."

"I heard about Rhode and Helios." Irene didn't look surprised. "They've been gone for over a century, Percy. It's not news."

He gave her a bewildered look. "You knew about this?"

"I found out not much longer after they faded. When did you find out?"

"Last month. Why didn't you tell me?"

Irene shrugged her shoulders. "Am I supposed to tell you? We're not exactly on the same side, are we?"

His fingers twitched and he took a step toward her. "You told me you wanted to help."

"Yes, to help bring balance," she nodded. She gestured to the ruins of Troy behind them. "Not destruction."

Percy regarded her coldly. "Don't pretend to be noble. You dislike the Romans just as much as I do."

"Nowhere near as much as you," she scoffed. "Perhaps you're right to say I dislike them after what my brother did to me, what his new family did to me. I didn't agree with him back then. I don't agree with his descendants now. But I'm also of the opinion that there's no reason to enable a lunatic who wishes to tear everything down. That would be worse than anything the Romans have done."

He laughed soulessly. "I'm a lunatic? Even crazier than when I was literally on the verge of turning into a mania?"

Irene walked over to the shore. She slipped out of her sandals and took a few steps into the water. With a deep sigh, she said, "I regret this life, but I'm too afraid to leave it. You understand, don't you?" She turned to him and gave him an ominous look. "But, because you're too afraid of leaving this life yourself, you're going to destroy everything if you continue this way, Percy."

"Everyone loves to say that."

"And you should listen." Irene's words washed over him like spring water. "I don't want you to destroy yourself in the process. You act as if you would sacrifice your soul to bring down Apollo and Mars. What good would that do? What solace would come of that?"

"I'm immune to your charmspeak," he scowled.

"I know that very well." Her eyes were sad. "If I was strong enough to stop you, I would have done it a long time ago."

"But you're not."

"You're right. I was never strong enough to stop you. I've never _thought_ of stopping you. Only... only to save you. All I can do is to try and help you find a different path."

With the sun setting off to his left, and the desperate look Irene was giving him, it almost felt like it was his last chance to turn back. If he didn't turn away before his plan to assassinate Caesar, then he would finally give himself up.

But he was so close to beginning the final phase of his plan. Caesar would become a martyr to the people. The Senate would crumble, authoritarianism would rise, and without the dissent and discourse of conflicting opinions, it would be easy to manipulate the everyday citizen. The only thing he needed to figure out was how to wipe Apollo away from history. He couldn't give up after coming this far.

Irene spoke again, "I don't belong to either world, Greek or Roman. True Trojans died out a long time ago. But you belong to both. Must you insist on absolute annihilation? Things should revert to the way they were before the war. Back then… before you were exiled, you were the coolest hero I had ever known... _have_ ever known to this very day."

Percy clenched his jaw. "I was weak."

"No… the current you is weak," she said, shaking her head. "Back then, you were the strongest demigod in the world. I want that Percy back. The one I admired. And I'll do what I can to help him return."

He held her gaze for a while, as the sky above them turned orange and pink. She didn't waver. She didn't back down.

"But if you must kill Caesar, then do it," she said. Her expression was strong and resolute. "If he's gone back on his word, if he's decided to fight against us, then do what you have to. I'll stick by you so long as the Romans hold the upper hand. But, please, don't push your limits. It'll only be a matter of time before you break yourself. And when that time comes, I guarantee you, no one will be there to save you."

Percy scowled. "There will always be those who agree with my sentiment."

"Not of the ones who have compassion and empathy. Only the young, the hateful, stay by you. And for those who see the light too late, by the time they realize, they're doomed to death."

"Have you seen what the Romans have done to the Greeks?" He ground his teeth. "Did you not see what they did to Greek demigods after they took over? Mass slaughters were completely erased from their history books. They coerced our people into fighting with them, and then when they finally annexed Achaea, they systematically raped and slaughtered _everyone_!"

"And what use is it to fight back with the same cruelty?" She stepped out of the surf and approached him. "You'll just continue an endless cycle of hatred. This war will never end."

Percy stepped forward and put a hand to his belt. "Don't test me, Irene."

"If the only one left in the world that can sway your heart is Zoë, then you are already doomed," Irene said. "She nearly sacrificed her life to try and save you. Have you done _anything_ in the centuries since your return to make it up to her?"

"I didn't ask her to follow me into that hell," he said coldly.

Irene bowed her head and closed her eyes, acting as if he was a lost cause. She sounded irritated, her voice gruff. "If I had let you turn into a mania, we wouldn't have to go through all this pain and suffering. How many lives have you sacrificed in your journey to destroy Apollo and Mars? Should I go and destroy those spheres and return the memories to you? Should I let you deteriorate until you're no longer human?"

"Go ahead and try!" he shouted.

Irene clenched her jaw and glared at him, trying her best, but miserably failing, to maintain her composure. "This is what Zoë wanted to avoid. Go ahead, then! Go and kill and destroy everything this world has to offer. Plunge this world into chaos and devastation. When nothing is left, when the only thing that remains is a wasteland of nothing but human remains, then enjoy your pitiful excuse for victory!"

Percy was ready to explode, but he stopped when he looked into her eyes. Normally guarded and secretive, Irene usually kept a façade up to hide her true emotions. But he could see the hurt in her expression, masked by layers of anger and fear. She tried to blink the tears out of her eyes.

Before he even really knew what he was doing, he found himself reaching out toward her face.

She slapped his hand away, sniffling and wiping her eyes. "Don't act like you care, Percy. You ignored Zoë when she reached out toward you. You don't deserve to reach out for anyone."

"I..."

Irene turned away from him. "I think we're done here. Go. Kill Caesar. I'll find Octavian."

He opened his mouth to call out to her, but his voice was lost in his throat. He couldn't say a word. He looked down. He felt conflicted.

He turned. He walked away.

* * *

_Circa 550 CE  
Justinian Dynasty  
Ilion, Asia_

They sat on the shore near where the old Myrmidon camp was.

The fleet had to make a pit stop in Ilion for food and supplies. There were too many campers, and the suppliers had been woefully unprepared for the amount of bodies they needed to support. Percy didn't mind all that much. It gave him more time with the Trio.

The last time he saw Athanasios this close was when the boy was a toddler. His mother was a legacy of Mercury, a member of the Twelfth Legion. She developed a sickness after she gave birth to her baby boy, and word spread around the legion that she'd slept with a Greek. Percy tried to bring them both to the camp, but the woman died from her disease before they could get there. Despite his matrilineal ancestry, Athanasios was dominantly Greek and often acted that way.

He'd seen Leon in brief visits with Sophia, but he only watched from a distance. It was all he needed to determine the boy's potential. And he knew Xanthe from his early visits to Sophia's household, where he'd spent a decade watching her and her children after failing to kill a promising young warrior in the Eleventh Legion named Marcus.

He could hardly remember the last time he'd been so invested in the lives of demigods from childhood to adulthood. The last demigod or legacy he'd attended to must have been Trajan, whom Percy had genuinely liked. In the centuries following, Percy had turned his attention toward the rise of Christianity and a broader view of the whole war.

It had also been a long time since he'd visited Troy. Even if it had been turned into a completely different city centuries ago, Percy would always remember these lands as Trojan. The memory of the city burning to the ground was as clear as day, unlike all of his memories of the east. That day, he'd succumbed to a sort of madness. Nothing mattered but vengeance for the gods. But in the east, everything was done on his own accord. He'd made the decisions without outside influence. Those memories haunted him the most. It was why he put then away.

"It's definitely interesting to see how land changes over time," Percy told the Trio. He pointed at the shoreline. "There used to be a larger bay here. The sea, at high tide, was very close to the city. The Scamander deposited a lot of loose sediment, extending the plains all the way up where it is today."

"How does it work?" Leon frowned. He was the only one of the three in the mood to speak with him. "Is the soil just deposited because the water brings it? Like, it breaks off of the land upriver, and then as the river flows into the ocean, the loose soil just... collects here?"

"Something like that."

"Wow." Leon stared out at the boats. "I can't really believe I'm here. I've never been out to Asia. The closest I've gotten is Adrianople. I heard about a lot from the seer about the Trojan War. I mean, he's a seer so he doesn't really know all the details about the past, but still. It's amazing."

"What do you know about the Trojan War?"

"The seer talked a lot about Achilles. I think that's the story that gets passed down because of Homer. It's written so that we can understand Achilles' story."

"What do you think of Achilles?"

Leon pursed his lips. "Hm, that's a difficult question. Um, I think he's arrogant and proud, but I also think that he's fiercely loyal and protective of those he cares about. I think he genuinely cared for Briseis. His desire or call for revenge I think was justified to some extent. I... If my mother was taken like a prize or killed, or my closest friend was murdered because everyone went against my command, I think I'd snap too."

The son of Zeus suddenly turned toward Xanthe, his eyes wide. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he seemed to realize that Xanthe's mother had just died the day before.

Percy put a hand on his shoulder to calm him and leaned over toward Xanthe. "Hey, kiddo. How are you?"

Xanthe nodded glumly. "I'm fine."

She looked as though the life had been sucked out of her. Her eyes stared blankly at the sea, a cold blue like the deep ocean. She hadn't cried yet, though he figured she might once reality hit her. He wouldn't hold it against her. Crying was a natural reaction to loss and sorrow. Sophia wasn't a good mother by any means, but she spent the last decade of her life doing her best to atone for all the mistakes she'd made in her younger days. Percy could respect that.

Leon slumped forward, as if disappointed that he couldn't console her.

Athanasios let out a resigned sigh. The son of Hades turned to Percy. "So... who are you, first of all? And what do you want from us? Why does Chiron seem to hate you? Who was that girl with you?"

"All good questions, Athanasios." Percy slid forward and turned so that he was facing the Trio. He gave him the warmest smile he could muster up. "Let's start with the easiest one. That girl is Irene. She's a friend, for now. She could easily become our enemy, but that's a different story. She's going to track down someone we've been looking for, so that's why she isn't here. The second easiest question is who I am. My name is Perseus. But I go by Percy. Though, I'm sure you know a little more about me than the other two."

Athanasios flushed. Percy hoped he remembered the dream that he'd seen of Ionna.

"You're the leader of this war, aren't you?" Leon said suddenly. "I don't quite understand everything yet, but that must be why Chiron gave you that look. You're older than you look. You don't carry yourself like you're our age. You carry yourself like you're our commander."

"Good observation," Percy smiled.

Xanthe blinked and tilted her head slowly. "You... you're the one that put me on Chiron's back before we escaped. You... my mother..."

Percy's smile faltered. He stared sadly at her. "I'm sorry. But Sophia knew what she was getting into. She would've wanted you to survive over her. You're more important to the cause."

Her eyes flashed angrily and she shot to her feet. "So it's okay to let my mother die?!"

"No, it's not okay," he replied coolly. He could feel the sea behind him bubbling, ready to explode at Xanthe's command. "Had we all stayed, we would have all died. Would you rather that than the opportunity for revenge?"

"I would rather have died with her!" She let out a cry of grief, shutting her eyes like she was expecting the world to explode around them. When she opened her eyes, and nothing had changed, she looked shocked. "What... how... how are we not soaking with...?"

Percy raised his hand up to eye-level. "That would be my doing."

"You...?"

"I'm a son of Poseidon. Hello, sister."

Xanthe didn't blink once as she slowly sat down in shock. She kept her eyes on him, as if she couldn't believe she'd encountered a demigod who was powerful enough to counter her.

They settled into a brief silence.

Leon glanced back and forth between Athanasios and Xanthe, unsure of what to say. He pressed his lips together in thought. It must have been a whirlwind for the son of Zeus. Percy knew that he'd been living in his village for years up until the day before, and to suddenly be in Ilion had to have been overwhelming. But he was handling it well. Much better than the other experienced campers. Percy wondered if Leon's unorthodox training helped him in some ways.

Then, suddenly, Athanasios straightened his posture and gave Percy a hard look. "You want us to help you, then. Leon must be right. You are one of the leaders of the war effort, even if we've never heard of you specifically. I can't think of any other reason why you'd come to us here."

"And am I wrong to believe you would join me?" Percy asked.

Athanasios glared at him. "I want to fight. There's nothing else I'd rather do. But why should we follow you? We hardly know you."

Percy smiled. "Well, it's simple, Thanas. I have the key to what you want."

Athanasios' scowl didn't disappear, but he gestured for him to continue.

"You're right, there is no trust between us yet. How can you trust me? How can I trust you? But we all have the same goal here. We want to survive. We want to protect the ones we care about."

Leon scratched his head. "Um, even me?"

"Even you, Leon."

"Okay, I'm listening." Leon turned to the other two. "Aren't you two curious? How does he know... no, _what_ does he know? Why not hear him out? If you decide you don't want to help him, what's the worst that can happen? We die? Would you kill us, Percy?"

"Probably," Athanasios muttered.

Percy took a long look at Leon. He was definitely different from the other two. His instincts were sharp and well-tuned. Leon could sense that he was no threat. He could tell it was wholly on Percy to convince them to join his side.

"Well?" Leon challenged.

Percy crossed his arms and laughed. "Of course not. You're free to accept or reject as you please. But, might I remind you, Empress Theodora can only protect so many of you. Constantinople is not free of Romans. They will have their scouts and informants. If you want to live a comfortable life there until the Romans combine forces and converge on you, then be my guest. You're sure to die if you walk that path."

"And the other path is us following you and surviving?"

He shook his head. "There aren't always only two options. Sometimes there are more. You can choose to split up, fragment yourselves as you lead on your different lives. You can choose to lead the campers east in an attempt to escape the hunt and disappear into old Persian lands. You can head north and escape into obscurity, run away from the fight. There are a plethora of options, Leon. But, of course, my job is to recommend one."

"To join you," Athanasios said.

He nodded.

The Trio all looked at each other, trying gauge each other's opinions. Percy was surprised and happy to see that Leon fit in almost instantly. They already looked like they were a team.

Percy put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. "Thanas. You want to fight this war. You want to destroy the Romans. You have a reason to end it. Once it's over, you and the love of your life will get married."

Athanasios' weak point was Ionna. The way his eyes immediately focused when he mentioned 'love' was all Percy needed to confirm. Athanasios must have fallen for her _hard_.

"But Ionna's on her way to Italia," Percy continued. "She's headed straight into enemy territory. She's headed off to complete an insane quest that no one has ever completed successfully. Even if this war ends, there's a chance that your love will no longer be with you."

"You could have stopped her," Athanasios said, clenching his jaw. "Are you trying to provoke me?"

"No one ever said you couldn't go to fight by her side." Percy raised his eyebrows. "Unless Chiron told you that you need to stay safe and remain within the camp."

"Well... no."

"Isn't that the thing you fear the most right now, Thanas? That Ionna will be slain before you even get the chance to say goodbye? How could you just let her go and not do anything about it?"

"I..." Athanasios seemed at a loss for words. "Well, I just..."

"Xanthe," Percy said, leaving Athanasios to ponder. "Your mother... she was killed by those stupid Romans. The Eleventh Legion was there to kill all of you. What about Cyril? What about the dead that never made it to Thessalonica? You've been training to become powerful enough to fight the Romans. Will you give up on that dream, on that hope, this easily?"

Xanthe looked down.

"The Romans are the ones that killed your mother in the end. Not yourself. Not Chiron. Not me. It was the Romans."

"I... Yeah, I know that's what we're supposed to be fighting for but..."

"Does it feel like a part of you has gone missing? Like your mother's death as left a hole in your heart?"

Xanthe nodded, clutching the fabric of her clothes. "I feel lost."

"Don't feel lost. Channel it. Channel that strength and power. Avenge your mother. She worked so hard to protect you from danger, so that you would live a great life. Fight and end this war in her honor. Fight to achieve the life that your mother so desperately wanted you to have."

She couldn't lift her head.

Percy turned to Leon, who was watching expectantly. "And last, but not least, Leon. This is the world you were built for. Not your village's world. For your whole life, you've felt out of place. You've felt like an imposter, living in a world that's not your own. And now, after being threatened with death, you've run away. This time, the Romans didn't attack your home. But they spent the effort to find you, target you, come to your village. What will happen the next time they want to send a message?"

Leon's ears twitched. "They wouldn't attack a village full of mortals."

"How do you know?" Percy could tell Athanasios and Xanthe believed him. "Some of Rome's most pagan-influenced leaders initiated terrible purges against Christians. Moreover, they would have known that you were a member of that village for years. They now know, after you ran away, that you are aware of your heritage. There's a chance you could return home one day. Perhaps your home will be used as bait, as a trap, to lure you out."

"You have no proof that that will happen," Leon said, his voice more irritated.

_No, I don't_, Percy thought. _But all I need to do is convince you that it might._

"The Romans have no mercy, Leon," Xanthe said, turning to face him. "Viviana, Alexandros and I were on a mission once to find a daughter of Ares near Larissa. Her home was burned to the ground, the village was sacked, and the next morning it was nearly a ghost town. Men's heads were lined up on spears like a fence. Some women were killed, but the majority had been taken as prizes. Boys lay dead and disfigured in the rubble. We were far too late."

"Some legions were instructed by Mars to hunt down Greeks to the last survivor," Athanasios said darkly. "Fortunately, mortals have become so abundant that it's a lot easier to hide."

"Yes, you can go back to your village and protect them," Percy continued, thankful that the other two had unknowingly supported his case. "Or you can take the fight to the Romans themselves and prevent them from touching your village. Of course, there's no guarantee. But there's no guarantee that you will be able to protect your village on your own."

Leon clenched his jaw.

Percy watched him closely. Each of them was driven by a loved one, which he found fascinating. Xanthe and Athanasios were far more aware of the impending fight with the Romans and displayed far more hostility toward said Romans. Leon, however, was an interesting case. He had no reason to hate the Romans. He had no reason to fight in the war other than the fact that Marcus had gone to his village to kill him. And his ultimate breaking point, like Athanasios, was one woman.

Percy softened his voice. "Listen, Leon. I get it. You don't know where you belong. This fight against the Romans seems so foreign to you. You don't really understand why this war is being fought. All you know is that it _is_ being fought. You want to be at home with your mother. But, even there, you don't quite fit in. Their very beliefs speak against your existence. Now, you have a chance to make a home. This is your chance to finally seize the day and find out where you truly belong."

The son of Zeus looked up at him. There was conflict in his eyes for sure. Then, Leon turned to Athanasios, who gave him an uncertain look. Lastly, Leon faced Xanthe.

Something seemed to click in his mind. He reached out and grabbed Xanthe's hand.

Xanthe looked up at him in surprise.

Leon gave her a small smile as if to comfort her. "I... I didn't know your mother that well. Outside of two isolated incidents, I've only ever seen her in dreams. But it must be hard knowing that she's dead. I..." He caught himself, like he was holding back sorrow of his own. "I'm not a good person. I've done bad things. But if joining this war means I can protect people from being killed by bloodthirsty attackers, then I'll do it. Don't worry. We'll avenge your mother. We'll protect Ionna."

Athanasios straightened as Leon turned to face him. He stared at Leon curiously for a moment before his expression hardened in determination. "You're right. We won't let them hurt any more of us."

Xanthe's eyes started to well with tears. "We hardly know each other, Leon... How can you say that so easily?"

"Well, we're both Greek demigods, aren't we?" Leon was still holding her hand. "And, most importantly, we're both human. It hurt a lot, coming to the realization that I was a killer, that I killed my uncle. But seeing how my entire village, even the ones that didn't know my uncle very well, came together to comfort my mother, I know that everyone in my village is a good person. Regardless of the fact that I'm not supposed to exist to them, we're human in the end."

"Are the Romans still humans then?" Athanasios asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Leon nodded. His gaze turned cold. "But if they're humans who kill innocent people defending themselves, simply because they don't like their origins, simply because they don't like people who have _no_ control of where they come from, then that's unforgivable."

"My... my brother..." Xanthe's voice cracked. "He's..."

"Whatever happens," Leon said, "we should stick by each other. If we don't... then who will? Let's remember your mother for the good she did. Let's honor her legacy."

She leaned over and wrapped him in an embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. Leon returned the embrace, the lost look in his eyes morphing into one of determination.

Athanasios hung his head in mourning. He muttered something underneath his breath that must have been some sort of prayer for Sophia's passage into the Underworld.

Percy held back a smile. The Trio had become close to each other in far less time than he'd expected. He was glad that they were connecting on an emotional level. Emotions were far more powerful than any other means of persuasion.

A part of his mind, somewhere in the back, flashed in alarm. If Leon ever got wind of his true intentions, there was nothing stopping the son of Zeus from turning on him. But he pushed it aside. Leon would come to see that the world wasn't as simple as that. Morals and ethics are never as clear-cut as that.

Xanthe apologized after she stopped crying. Athanasios and Leon helped her clean her face and brought her back to the ships. The cargo was fully loaded. The Greeks would be ready to sail to Constantinople soon. But the Trio assured him that they weren't going with them, that they would convince Chiron to let them free, and if he didn't, they would sneak out.

Percy stared out at the bay. The lapping waves reminded him of the past, back before Augustus built Ilion.

"If I don't deserve to reach out for anyone, am I supposed to fade?" he asked the waves. He hoped the Fates were listening. "Give me Apollo's death and I'll stop. Kill him and spare the lives of millions. Or I'll drag everyone into this mess."

Percy sniffed and spat on the ground.

"I already destroyed myself. Don't make me destroy the world too."


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Apologize already!" Hera snapped.

Apollo scowled. "Why should I? I've done nothing wrong! You should make _him_ apologize to me for stabbing me! He's already lucky that I can't afford to just kill him without making Poseidon angry."

Poseidon sighed and slumped in his throne. "Must we continue bickering like this every time we settle in our Greek forms? We have a _brief_ period where we're not completely at the mercy of our fighting forms and we end up fighting with each other. Am I the only one that finds this ridiculous?"

Athena stared at him weirdly, like she couldn't believe he'd said something sensible. "I... concur..."

The two stared at each other for a while, unsure of how to react.

Artemis put her elbow on her armrest, propping her chin up. She stared blankly at the glowing hearth in the center of the room. They'd been called up for a meeting by Zeus after everyone had temporarily settled into their Greek forms, probably to discuss some trivial matter. While Artemis was glad that she had finally settled into one form, she was a little irritated that she couldn't spend it with her Hunters. She hadn't heard from them in a while and wanted to see if they were doing alright.

Apollo and Hera continued to argue while the rest of the Council watched in annoyance. Zeus was late, holding the meeting back.

"It's nice to see everyone not flickering back and forth!" Aphrodite said as Apollo and Hera took a brief pause in their argument. "It's been a long time since we've been able to see each other. Well, I mean, it's been a long time since _you_ have been able to see me."

Artemis glared at the goddess. She hated that Aphrodite was rather unaffected by the whole Greek-Roman split. She was the love goddess either way, though she was slightly more warlike as a Roman and slightly more risqué as a Greek.

"Uncle Poseidon, why can't you just let me kill him?" Apollo complained. He crossed his arms and pouted like a spoiled child. "You know he's just going to kill more of our children, don't you?"

Poseidon sighed. Resting an elbow on his armrest, just like her, he put a hand to his face. "Please, Apollo. I've already had enough of a headache dealing with Neptune. I don't need more of this."

"But—"

Poseidon put a hand up to stop him. "No, Apollo. Shut up. Please."

Apollo shut up.

"Where is Zeus?" Demeter asked irritably. "The crops need to be tended to. Otherwise those poor mortals will starve."

Right on cue, there was a blinding flash, and Zeus appeared in front of his throne. Thunder echoed outside, signalling his dramatic entrance. Immediately, he sat down and faced the rest of the Council.

"Did you get lost, brother?" Poseidon asked, looking over at Zeus glumly.

Zeus shot him an irritated look. "This isn't the time for jokes, Poseidon. We have serious matters to discuss."

"Then let's discuss before we're thrown back into frenzy."

"I agree," Zeus nodded. He turned to the rest of the Council. "We rarely get an opportunity like this in times of crisis, so I plan to make the most use of it."

_You're not making good use of it by rambling on unnecessarily_, Artemis thought.

"The plan is to kill Percy, right?" Apollo spoke up. "Father, you'll grant approval and override Poseidon, right?"

It was a valid request. Zeus had never been fond of the boy. Artemis once supported the boy, but she'd soured on him over time. Regardless of what he'd experienced during his exile, there was no rational justification for the cruelty he'd inflicted on countless innocent lives. He'd done terrible, terrible things. Of course, her brother had played a role in corrupting him, and she could understand how his mortal mind couldn't comprehend the true severity of his actions.

"No, it is not."

The whole room seemed to snap to attention. Artemis straightened in her seat and stared at Zeus. Was he actually voting _against_ killing the son of Poseidon?

"Father...?"

Zeus twitched and slammed a fist down on his armrest. "Don't test me, Apollo. This is not the time to be arguing about whom to kill, what to kill, what to destroy. My children will be put in danger because of this forsaken war. No one here can deny the fact that were it not for Perseus, the wars would be far bloodier and ruthless than they already are."

"How does that even make sense?" Apollo scoffed. "Percy's more brutal and ruthless than anyone."

"Father is right," Athena interjected. She gave Apollo a cold stare. "Percy believes he can control fate. He plays both sides, holding them back from battle. He guides my children safely through Rome on their quest to find the statue. He holds the Romans back from killing the Greeks, and he spares the Greeks from fighting by taking on the Roman legions himself."

"Oh, come on! That's ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous as it may seem, it is far from fiction," she said calmly. "He is the key to salvation _and_ destruction."

"But ignoring intent, his actions are reprehensible," Artemis pointed out. She met her half-sister's gaze. "The things he's done to demigods and mortals alike are not something we should revere. They are actions we should condemn."

"I don't disagree, Artemis, but there is a difference between acceptance and encouragement. Perhaps we are, indirectly, encouraging such behaviour. That is an unfortunate by-product of what we have created. But the benefits outweigh the costs."

"So we're willing to corrupt one soul to 'save' others?"

"If we must in order to keep our legacy alive, then it must be done."

"You realize you are destroying him, slowly but surely." Artemis raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you intend on disposing of him once his purpose has been achieved. You are the one on his side, are you not?"

Athena didn't back down. She kept her gaze cool, calm and collected. "Once he has created the balance needed to sustain a tentative peace, then Irene will take over. I have groomed her over the centuries for this very purpose."

Apollo blinked. "Oh, wow... Huh. That's... actually pretty good. I like the sound of that."

Artemis looked around at the Council. No one seemed to disagree with Athena's sentiment. Part of Artemis felt that way too. It wasn't unreasonable for them to get rid of Percy, especially when he had the power to cause as much destruction and devastation as he did. But the other part of her felt angry that they were toying with him.

She knew it was irrational. But she wasn't supposed to be a goddess of rationality. That was Athena's job. Artemis couldn't condone any support for Percy's ruthlessness, but she couldn't accept using him like a puppet. So many women faced injustice from men because they were seen as inferior. Percy was a demon of their own making. It was only right that they acknowledged that.

"So, as Athena said, we will begin our plan," Zeus told the Council. He cleared his throat. "Athena, you must speak to Irene and Morpheus. Get them to mitigate the damages soon to be caused by the son of Poseidon. Artemis, I need you to order your Hunters to contain him. And Poseidon, you must distract him. Slow his plans down. Give us the time necessary to pull his feet out from underneath him."

Poseidon set his lips in a hard line. "You told me you would give him a chance for redemption. You swore it by the Styx. Will you hold that promise, brother?"

"I will." Zeus looked deadly serious. "I don't like the boy, but at least he respects the gods. He views us as we are, not as lesser beings like many of the other impudent demigods."

"Respects the gods?" Apollo cried indignantly. "Did you _not_ see what he did to me?"

"You deserved it," Ares grunted.

"He doesn't like you either!"

"So? I'm not the one that ruined his life. I just wanted to fight him."

"Wow, so helpful!" Apollo exclaimed sarcastically. "You're a real good partner, you know?"

Aphrodite pursed her lips. "He already accepted my apology. Maybe if you try, Apollo, we can resolve all of this without more bloodshed. If we reconcile, Percy might try to make peace between the two enemies."

"As if I'd apologize," he scowled. He crossed his arms. "How many times do I have to say it?"

"My daughter pities him," the love goddess continued. "How pathetic have we made him that my daughter, who's lived a horrible life because of that stupid owl goddess, pities him?"

"Excuse me?" Athena exclaimed hotly.

Apollo shook his head. "I won't apologize to him. _Never_! Unless he apologizes to me first. And, even then, there's no guarantee that I will forgive him. I might just smite him out of spite."

Zeus stood, silencing the room. He stared at each god and goddess intently. "Regardless of how you feel or what you want to do, no one will leave Olympus unless I grant permission. Athena and Artemis are both free for the time being to speak to their respective parties. But after you complete your task, you are to return to Olympus immediately. Is that understood?"

Apollo opened his mouth to interject, but was silenced immediately by Zeus' glare.

"_Is. That. Understood._"

"Yes," Apollo said meekly.

There were no objections.

Zeus scanned the room and nodded to himself. He gestured to Athena and Artemis. "Go. Be back before tomorrow. If you're not, I will get someone to find you."

"Yes, Father." Athena bowed to him and flashed away.

"Lord Zeus, can I suggest an idea regarding how to deal with Percy?" Aphrodite asked.

Artemis curled her lip in distaste. She didn't want to listen to the stupid love goddess suggest her stupid plan. She bowed to Zeus before snapping her fingers and riding the winds down to the mortal world. As the world materialized around her, she found herself in a small clearing near what was once called Massalia.

There was one lonely tent sitting in the center of the clearing. At its entrance, a silver-furred wolf lay in rest, poking its head up to acknowledge her presence. It howled quietly, alerting the tent's owner of the new guest.

As she approached the tent, the wolf stood up and walked over to greet her. She smiled as she dropped to a knee and petted the animal. She missed the little one.

The tent flap opened, and Zoë stepped out. When they met eyes, Zoë looked surprised and, for a moment, panic flashed in her eyes.

"My... my lady." Zoë bowed, dropping to a knee. "What brings you back?"

Artemis looked around at the empty clearing. There was no chance that more than two Hunters would share a tent. Something had gone very wrong since she'd last been with the Hunters. How long had she been out of commission?

Zoë seemed to understand immediately. "It's been fifteen years since you were formally accompanying us. Three years since you last saw us, my lady."

"What happened to the others?"

Zoë looked down, as if ashamed. "I'm sorry, my lady. It was my fault. I led them into a trap. The Frankish bands decided to hunt us after we killed a trespasser. We were all split up."

"What do you mean?" Artemis asked.

Zoë shook her head. "They were lost. I... I don't know where they went. We executed our contingency plan, but no one showed up. I think everyone fell back because the Franks kept advancing. I don't know why they were hunting us. I've been thinking about heading east and—"

Suddenly, the goddess' head roared with searing pain. She couldn't hear or see anything for a moment. Images of Rome flashed in her mind, and her memory distorted itself.

"My lady!" Zoë's worried voice came through when the pain subsided. "You're flickering back and forth!"

Artemis nodded in acknowledgement. She gritted her teeth, determined to remain Greek for at least a little longer. "Find the others. Use Irene. Athena created her to bring balance, to mitigate the damage caused by the wars. Save the Hunters and stop Percy."

The goddess bit her tongue, cursing Zeus for making them wait on Olympus for so long.

"Is he doing something right now?" Zoë asked.

"I don't know," she managed to reply. "Maybe. Go! Stop him!"

"I... I will, my lady."

Zoë looked scared for her. She appreciated her lieutenant's concern, but if she had been out of commission for over three years, and separated from the Hunt for over a decade, Zoë had to have been capable of leading the Hunters. She trusted that the incident with the Franks was an innocent mistake.

But the pain was too much. She couldn't say any more. She couldn't form coherent sentences and speak her mind.

_Help Percy before it's too late. Help Percy before he destroys himself._

The words never left her mouth. In a blinding flash, Artemis found herself back up on Olympus. Her mind was splitting apart between her Greek and Roman forms. Nothing around her made sense. The Greeks deserved to die. So did the Romans. Everything around her was white. It felt like the whole world was screaming and shouting around her.

_Welcome back_, a part of her mind said, _to your own personal hell._

* * *

Zoë sat on the grass, staring at where Artemis had been moments before.

She expected to feel guilty, but she hadn't anticipated it feeling this bad. Seeing Artemis in pain only made her more aware of how real the war was, how real her mistake had been. She should have done a better job protecting the Hunters. It wasn't as if she didn't know what Percy had been up to.

Anger replaced the guilt as her mind focused on the son of Poseidon. She hated what he'd done to the world, forcing everyone to suffer as a result of his selfishness. Artemis had her worst bouts when the Greeks and Romans were attacking each other.

But she couldn't _not_ blame herself. If she hadn't gotten distracted and let the Hunters be separated, she wouldn't have been in this predicament. Percy and Irene had been in distant contact, and Irene had let her know about Percy's whereabouts. For the past month or so, that connection had been cut because she'd been on the run.

For some reason, Iris-messages to the other Hunters weren't working. There was something blocking their connection, but Zoë couldn't figure out what. She was sure that the others were still alive. She was confident in their survival instincts. Finding out _where_ they had gone was the difficult part.

She had found tracks leading up north, but they quickly disappeared. They had been covered so well that she couldn't even make out where they had gone afterward. She went all the way up to what had once been Britannia without any luck. She'd gone down to Iberia, northeast into Germania, but still couldn't figure out where the other Hunters had gone.

She was on her way to the ruins of Ravenna, taking a quick pit stop in old Massalia for food and supplies. She hoped she'd find more success near Ravenna. The problem with finding each other was that they covered their tracks too well. Her wolf was pretty much useless, considering each time they started investigating a group of Frankish scouts would find her and attack her. They weren't as fractured as they used to be. Their communication channels were on par with the Romans'. It annoyed her.

With a sigh, she packed up her tent and went down to the river to wash her face.

"Zoë?"

The Hunter whirled around to the sudden sound, drawing her bow.

In the misty image, hovering in the air just behind her, was the aforementioned Irene. There was a horse behind her, and she looked like she was bent over a knee. Her expression was partly confused and partly relieved.

Zoë put her bow away and stared at the image. "Irene, how did you...?"

"We couldn't get to you for a while," Irene explained. She leaned back a bit in relief. "Oh, thank the gods something bad didn't happen to you. I can't imagine how screwed we would all be."

Zoë raised an eyebrow and glanced around her. "Something bad _did_ happen. How did you get through to me? I've been trying to Iris-message the other Hunters for weeks now, and it hasn't been working."

"Other Hunters?" Irene blinked. "Weeks? What's going on?"

Zoë could feel something lurking in the woods around her, as if hunting her. A cold shiver ran up her spine. "Let's meet in person. Ravenna. On the coastline east from Classe. I'll be there within a week."

Irene scrunched her nose, the way she did when she was dissatisfied. But she obliged. "I can get there within a week or so. I made it to Corinth, so I'll probably find a way."

"See you there."

Zoë swiped through the image before Irene could say bye. She'd been on nerve ever since they'd split up, but it had gotten worse in the past few days. She could've sworn that someone... or something... was watching her. She gritted her teeth and set out.

It took her a while, but she managed to find her way to Massalia. It was nowhere near the city it had once been, but the Franks still operated some of the old infrastructure. The harbour, fortunately, was one of the few things that they hadn't plundered and pillaged. Old boats came to and fro, transporting people to the Italian peninsula. It was the one place where Franks and Ostrogoths cooperated. The war effort of the Ostrogoths against the Eastern Romans had heated up recently, which meant they needed a way to get troops over there quickly. Sailing was almost always faster than marching.

It took her a few days, having to take a few detours here and there. Her canine friend steered any troublemakers clear of her when she came upon populated town centers. The Frankish scouts seemed to disappear the farther east she went.

Zoë made her way to the spot she'd told Irene to meet her at.

While Irene surely had questions for her, she also had a lot of questions for the Champion of None. She wanted to know exactly what was going on with Percy.

Fortunately, Ravenna was Roman territory. She was also shielded by the Ostrogoths, who, other than in Massalia, weren't quite so friendly with the Franks. The cold feeling of someone following her didn't go away, but it didn't feel as threatening as she waited within the city.

Irene arrived just a couple days after her. The Champion of None was waiting at the shore, staring out at the sea longingly. She turned as Zoë approached, giving her a brief but curt nod.

"What has Percy done this time?" Zoë demanded.

Irene didn't meet her eyes. "He's beginning an assault on the Eleventh Legion. With the intent to kill them all."

Zoë clenched her fists. "Again? How much longer does he have to do this?"

Irene didn't say anything. She just stared down at the ground in silence.

"Irene!" Zoë grabbed her shoulders. "You're letting him destroy the world when you're the only one powerful enough to stop him other than the Olympians themselves. Does watching thousands of people die excite you?"

"This isn't what I came here for," Irene said stoically.

The Hunter's eyes twitched. "Did you expect me to come out and meet you so that I could tell you all about the Hunters' whereabouts? Are you going to relay that information to Percy so that he can plan to avoid us?"

"Maybe your antagonistic behavior is what's driving Percy further into the dark," Irene said coldly. She looked up with a harsh expression. "Have you ever thought about how you might be the only one in this world capable of stopping him?"

Zoë narrowed her eyes. "That's unlikely."

"My charmspeak doesn't work on him anymore," Irene continued. She looked almost frustrated. "He's gone too far into his magic. Ever since we took the brunt of the trauma-inducing memories out of his mind, he's become increasingly methodical and destructive. You have _no_ idea how many sleeper agents he has across the Empire. Even I don't know the full extent of it all. He doesn't trust me enough to reveal everything. While he goes around hunting the legions, he has people in every nook and cranny of the Empire, feeding him information and tracking down independent Roman scouts. I can try hunting them down, but I'm not quick enough. By the time I take down even a tenth of his network, he'll have destroyed all the remaining legions. Especially now that he's met the Trio."

"Who's the Trio?"

"Three children of the Big Three. They're... they're the most powerful demigods I've ever seen. I don't know what happened to them during childhood, but they are all capable of becoming elite warriors. The son of Hades is already powerful enough to summon a small army of undead warriors without expunging his essence. That's unheard of."

"Is that some sort of sick coincidence? Why now?"

Irene shook her head and sighed, leaning back and staring up at the sky. "I don't know. I wish I did. A part of me wonders if Percy planned it all. He's been able to orchestrate and control so much. I haven't seen him have a human conversation in... centuries. Not since Trajan."

"That's because he's gone mad," Zoë muttered.

"Emotion is the only way to get to him," Irene said. She leaned forward and gave her an intense look. "Percy's biggest weakness is his ability to empathize."

"His biggest weakness is his arrogance," Zoë countered. "He thinks he's powerful enough that he can control fate."

Irene pursed her lips. "Yes, that's true. But what I'm talking about is that he's easily susceptible to human emotion. When he genuinely cares about something, he reaches out. But it's been a long time since I've seen him react with any sort of authenticity. He bottles up any of that care and just feeds his hatred and anger."

"Does Percy genuinely care about anything anymore?" Zoë closed her eyes as she remembered how he'd ordered the senators to stab Caesar to death and the cold, callous look in his eyes. "Other than utter destruction?"

"You."

Zoë stared at her incredulously. But Irene's gaze was firm. The immortal hero wasn't one to bluff. She was usually secretive and guarded, so when she spoke with any level of certainty, Zoë was safe to assume that she truly meant it.

"The Trio might be able to do it. But _you_ are the only certainty."

Zoë glanced up at the sky. She wondered what Artemis would've thought about that.

"Zoë..." Irene hesitated, looking down as if guilty. "I'm guessing I'm not far off the mark to assume that you lost contact with your other Hunters because the gods are in a sticky situation. In that period, Olympus has blocked connections between us because I was working with Percy. Now that I've changed my strategy, or maybe because Lady Athena has shifted her own plans, I was able to contact you through Iris-message. We need to work together in order to solve this problem."

"So what do you propose?"

"Your main goal, at the moment, is to find your Hunters. My main goal is to mitigate the damages Percy will cause and _is_ causing right at this very moment. We need to save him before he destroys everyone. First, we find your Hunters. Then, we deal with Percy's network. We pick it apart, piece by piece, until he's cornered. In that moment, you break him out of his rage. Show him that there's something worth protecting, worth living for."

She wasn't sure if that last part would work. It had been a long time since she'd faced Percy, and she wasn't sure how she would react to seeing him again. Thinking about him gave her a headache. And she was also certain of the fact that Irene wasn't divulging her whole plan. Breaking Percy out of his rage wasn't going to be as easy and simple as it sounded.

But Zoë felt compelled to try.

Irene stared at her expectantly. In that moment, with the way the sun filtered down on her features, and the background of the glittering sea, Zoë could distinguish Irene as a true daughter of Aphrodite. Despite her intense expression and rough looks, she was stunningly beautiful. Even with the scar across her right eyebrow, everything about her appearance was perfect. She could understand why she could so easily charm men. But, moreover, she was always genuine. She hid her feelings intentionally, showing the world that she didn't want people to know what was going on underneath her mask. When she _did_ show her honest feelings, they were always authentic. It almost made Zoë want to believe her. Almost.

"We go separately," Zoë told her. "First, we find my Hunters. Then, you deal with Percy's network. I work on hunting him down with the other Hunters. We corner him, and if he tries anything, we subdue him and bring him to Olympus. So long as he's not continuing forward with fighting anyone, we leave him be."

Irene didn't look like she liked the idea.

"Percy's gone too far, Irene. We need to be cautious."

Irene closed her eyes in thought. She made a few different facial expressions. After a moment of silence, she opened her eyes and sighed in resignation. Extending an arm, she offered a handshake.

"Deal."

* * *

**I know it's been a while, eh? As we continue to move along, please let me know if things become more and more confusing, if the characters are suddenly acting differently than they were before, if the story seems to have suddenly shifted, if there are inconsistencies. Since I'm always saying quite far ahead of what I'm posting, the new ideas I write have come to my mind long after I write these chapters I'm posting, and so the world might be twisting and turning as to how I suddenly see the story.**

**Anyway, I hope you all have a great weekend!**

**\- Sharky**


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Percy waited for the signal.

He held Anaklusmos to his chest and calmed his heart. He took long, even breaths, immersing himself into his surroundings. Leaning against a tree, he closed his eyes and let the sound of nature describe the environment around him.

He could hear the sounds of the Romans in their encampment, cheerily going about their day. The contingent that had attacked the Greek camp had returned, and the legion was preparing to set out to Constantinople. It would be their last night near Lychnidos.

He and the Trio had spent a week watching the Romans, watching their daily routines and searching for weak points in their defenses. The Romans had set up just south of the town in a clearing overlooking the lake. There weren't many spots with open terrain in the area, which made getting close to the camp a little bit easier. Still, the Romans built artificial fortifications, including a wooden wall and a dry moat studded with spikes, to protect the camp itself. It wouldn't be easy to get into the camp.

With the Greeks fleeing, the Romans seemed more at ease. Some laughed and joked around, perhaps a way to cope with the terror of war. Others were more downcast. After cleaning up the Greek campsite, and placing a protective shield of magic around Sophia's dead body, he estimated at least a couple dozen Roman casualties. Even more were wounded.

Percy figured it was partly why they hadn't packed up their camp and marched out to follow the Greeks. They had to bury the dead first.

"Ready to kill the Romans?" he whispered to himself.

His forearm grew hot and began to sear with pain. He clenched his teeth as it came and went. He covered his arm with his tunic, trying to ignore the old tattoo.

The shadows swirled around him, and Athanasios—who preferred going by the name Thanas, a nickname Ionna had coined for him—popped out of one of the nearby trees.

"We're ready," he said.

Percy nodded and glanced over at the gates. Right on schedule, a small group of scouts exited the camp. They climbed up on horseback, preparing to set out toward Thessalonica. If their intel was correct, this would be the advance team. They were some of the legion's most elite soldiers. They had trained their whole lives for this very moment. They would blend in with the crowd in Constantinople and search for the Greek demigods.

"Let's begin," he told the son of Hades.

Percy grabbed Thanas' hand, and the two melted into a shadow. When they reappeared, they were standing along the old stone road. Percy had mapped out the route from Lychnidos to Thessalonica, and regardless of which route they took, they would need to pass by this area. It was far out enough that the camp couldn't react immediately, but not so far that it would be difficult to call for reinforcements.

"How are Leon and Xanthe feeling?" Percy asked.

Thanas said, "Leon is trying to help Xanthe relax in the lake. She's nervous. She doesn't know if she can do this. Hades, I'm not sure if _I'm_ ready for this. Last night, they were just camping out like regular kids. I felt like I was watching... us at camp."

"They're still our enemy. This is what you two of trained for."

"I know, I'll be fine. But I'm still a little worried about Xanthe." Thanas' eyes flickered back in the direction of the camp. "Her brother's in this legion. I'm not sure if she can handle fighting against him."

"Leon will calm her," Percy assured him.

Thanas nodded. There was a little uncertainty in his gaze. Percy wasn't surprised. The boys hardly knew each other. It would be weirder if there _wasn't_ any uncertainty between them. Thanas also likely didn't trust Percy completely. Percy's best guess was that Thanas was unnerved by Leon's disposition, wondering how he could be so calm before such a large-scale attack.

Leon was confident in himself. He had plenty of raw power, and if he followed the plan, he would be fine.

Thanas needed some of that.

Percy put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Once we destroy the Eleventh, only three legions will remain. With the distractions they face, we'll have enough time to get to Ionna. I assure you."

Thanas' expression darkened. "I hope so."

The two of them slipped into the bushes, hiding from view.

"Remember, don't move until I finish them off," he told the son of Hades.

Thanas nodded.

Percy put Anaklusmos, in rod form, back onto the hook on his belt. He summoned his bow and crept toward the edge of the bushes. They waited patiently for the Romans to arrive. He could sense Thanas' nervousness behind him. The boy must have been unused to lying in wait to catch prey.

But the Romans eventually came.

They were all on horseback, spread out so as not to impede each other as they rode along. There were probably five or six in total. It was just as they expected.

Percy summoned a tripwire from the Infinity Pouch and tied it to the butt of the arrow. He notched the arrow and shot it across the road. The head of the arrow slammed into a tree, extending a thin line, barely visible to the eye, across the path. Percy yanked back on his end and attached it to a small metal spike. He jammed the spike into the trunk of the tree behind him and checked to make sure that the wire was tight.

The Roman expeditionary force never saw the wire. The lead scout rode straight into it, and his horse tumbled head over heels. With a whinny, it threw its rider off, and the Roman landed painfully on the stone pavement. The other scouts stopped in their tracks, yanking the reins of their horses just before they could go flipping.

"What in Jupiter's name was that?" the lead scout shouted.

Percy nodded at Thanas, who sunk deeper into the bushes. Then, he grabbed a pouch of Greek fire and threw it out into the middle of the road. It exploded, sending the horses into a panic. A few threw their own riders off and fled into the woods. Two of the horses ran with their riders still on their backs.

He stepped out of the bushes, drawing a couple of blunt arrows and firing them at the rogue riders. They hit their mark successfully. The Roman scouts toppled from their mounts and hit the ground hard.

Before the scouts could react to his presence, he grabbed Anaklusmos. He touched his fingertips to the sensor, and the sword sprung to life.

Instantly, he swung his blade and caught two surprised Romans before they even reached their swords. They crumpled like dolls.

"_Graecus!_" the lead scout snarled.

Percy whirled around, blocking a strike. He deflected the blade away and stepped forward, driving the hilt of his sword into the Roman's face. The Roman stumbled back and clutched his face with his free hand. Percy spun and kicked him across the face. It knocked him out cold.

There was one Roman left. And he smartly decided to run back toward the camp.

For a moment, Percy considered knocking him out cold, but he realized their plan would still work. Percy deactivated Anaklusmos and let out a sigh. He looked around at the bodies, all unconscious. He glanced back at the bushes, where he saw Thanas staring at him in awe. Percy winked and drew a dagger.

"You know what to do," he told the son of Hades.

Thanas nodding and melted back into the shadows.

Percy went around to each of the unconscious bodies and slit their wrists and necks. By the time reinforcements could make it, they would likely be dead. And if, somehow, they were brought back to the camp, Leon and Xanthe would take care of them.

After finishing the Romans off, Percy slashed open a cut on his forearm, wincing as he drew blood. He squeezed the red liquid out and began to jog away from the camp. Reinforcements wouldn't be too far out. He hoped they were observant enough to see the blood along the stone.

There were more explosions nearby. Percy kind of felt bad from the dryads, but what could they do. They needed to draw the Romans out. The Trio had helped him rig lines of Greek fire throughout the woods. Thanas had to go to each of them, one by one, activating them and creating the illusion that there was an advance Greek force ready to attack the Roman encampment.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Leon had received the signal.

While the Romans split up, Percy would draw the Romans to the other lake. Thanas would sneak up behind them, summon an army of undead warriors, and trap them. It was a similar plan on the other side. Xanthe and Leon would lure them to the first lake and drown the legion.

Following the plan, Percy kept moving down the path. He shook his arm out, hoping to splatter more blood on the ground. He glanced over his shoulder every now and then, checking for any signs of Roman troops.

When he could finally see the second lake, he stopped and bent down to tend to his arm. He muttered a few incantations, closing up the wound with magic. There was still a nasty-looking scar, but at least it wasn't bleeding. He needed as much energy as he could muster up to bend the lake to his will.

"There!"

Percy looked up. The reinforcements had found him. He ran off the path, into the woods, toward the second lake.

The four Roman scouts were quick, but he'd been running from gods for hundreds of years. They had no hope in beating him, especially in a long-distance run. He took the rocky, dangerous path down. It was quicker, forcing the Romans either to risk injuring themselves or take the long route around.

He felt an arrow whiz by his head. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw one of the Romans wielding a bow. It must have been a legacy or son of Apollo. The other three were on foot, wearing light armor and only holding their daggers. Running with a gladius in hand wasn't exactly energy efficient. And a dagger was definitely deadly enough to kill someone.

Percy summoned his bow again and fired an arrow at the archer. It caught him in the shoulder, forcing him to drop his bow.

The three scouts were right on his heels.

He would have to fight here. Percy drew Anaklusmos and charged forward. Stunned by his bold move, they fanned out in an attempt to divert his attention. He smiled and kept running.

The Romans were caught off-guard, and the one who'd charged at him head-on was met with a sword to the gut. Percy spun around, using the skewered Roman as a meat shield as the other two turned to fight.

Feeling more confident about fighting the one on the right, he yanked Anaklusmos from the skewered Roman and kicked him toward the Roman on the left. It was a temporary distraction, but enough to give Percy the moment he needed to cut down the Roman on the right. Percy slashed the Roman's wrist, forcing him to drop his dagger, before swinging across and catching the man's throat.

As he fell, Percy whirled around and parried a strike from the last Roman. Percy dashed in, closing the gap between them, and drove an elbow into his chin. The Roman's head snapped back and he lost his grip on his dagger. Percy caught it midair and drove it through the Roman's gut. The Roman stiffened in shock.

Percy pulled the dagger out and slashed across his chest with Anaklusmos. The large mark across the Roman's chest went right through his armor, and blood began to ooze from the wound. The Roman collapsed, moaning in stunned pain as he bled out.

He looked down at himself, checking for any wounds. Other than a small cut across the back of his hand, he hadn't been touched.

Dropping the dagger, he lifted Anaklusmos and trudged back toward where he'd shot the archer.

The Roman archer had left his bow on the ground. He'd also left behind a trail of blood.

Percy put Anaklusmos away and summoned his bow again. Following the trail of blood, he found the Roman walking back toward the path. He was clutching his shoulder in pain, keeping the arm on that side as straight and stiff as he could.

On the stone path was another group of Romans. It was bigger this time, maybe twenty in total, but still not the full legion. Percy hoped his little provocation attracted a few more Romans than the twenty in front of him.

One of the twenty soldiers, probably the leader, saw him and was shouting at the injured archer to run.

Percy grabbed an arrow and drew back on the bowstring. He took aim and placed his shot. It soared through the air, wobbling from the snap of the string. It hit its mark exactly, catching the Roman archer in the back, slightly off-center. The archer stumbled, freezing for a moment, before collapsing in a heap. His head hit the edge of the stone pavement. He'd been so close to safety.

Thunder roared in the distance. Leon had begun his attack.

The leader of the twenty Romans barked an order, ignoring the rumbling sky, and they formed ranks. Chanting a war cry, they advanced with amazing speed.

Percy retreated back down toward the lake, purposefully leading them down the long path. As he hoped, more Romans were arriving. Another contingent of reinforcements marched through the forest from the north, and two others came from the road.

He figured somewhere between sixty and ninety Romans had come to meet him.

Clearly, they hadn't been expecting a one-man show. And, as far as he could tell, that only seemed to make them angrier.

A few of the brave ones tried to challenge him, whether it was one-on-one or four-on-one, but he didn't hesitate to cut them down. They tried to catch him with a storm of javelins, but he was able to use the trees to his advantage. The Romans couldn't organize in the thickets and shrubbery. The devastating killing machine was rendered useless on this battlefield.

Just like at Cannae, their overconfidence would be their downfall.

Percy didn't see Marcus, so he figured the man was at the encampment. He was one of the few smart ones that _wouldn't_ have pursued him into the forest.

He continued backing off until he stepped out into the open. He could hear the lapping waves behind him.

The Romans converged on him from all sides, giving him no escape. What none of them knew was that he was a son of Poseidon and that, with the flick of his hand (and a lot of energy), he could drown them all. But that wasn't the purpose of fighting the Romans. He needed Thanas to fight.

"Yield, _graecus_!"

Percy gripped Anaklusmos tight. _Any time now, Thanas_.

A sudden growl rippled from the woods. The Romans at the back of the formation whipped their heads around at the sound. Some of them gasped. Others screamed. Percy grinned.

Four giant hellhounds stalked out from the forest, their lava-red eyes glaring straight at the Romans. They were each easily larger than a fully-grown hippopotamus. Percy had been to Egypt several times, and hippos were _not_ to be trifled with. They looked like pudgy, fat things, but those animals could take down crocodiles, which were by far the scariest apex predator in the world.

"_Pila!_"

A wave of javelins rose up, cutting through the air and toward the hellhounds.

Two of them were caught in the shower, one of them exploding into a pile of dust. The second howled in pain as it barely escaped death. The other two roared and charged forward into the Roman line.

Percy grinned as the Romans closest to him now had their attention on the chaos ensuing behind them. Four Romans were tossed into the air by each of the two unaffected hellhounds, destroying their formation. The third hellhound recovered and begun its attack on the Romans.

Behind the hellhounds, Thanas emerged from the woods with a contingent of twenty elite-looking undead warriors. His eyes were focused as he led the undead warriors forward. He summoned his sword, the Stygian iron as black as night, as if sucking away the daylight around him.

Percy readied Anaklusmos and jumped into battle.

While they were distracted, Percy cut down two more Romans before they blocked him off. The centurions were barking orders frantically, trying to reform their ranks. Percy saw the shields close up as they locked into formation. They fell back into a defensive square, switching to their _pila_.

The undead and hellhounds converged from all sides, just as the Romans had done to Percy moments before. Percy remembered Irene and Hannibal at the head of the Carthaginian army that day at Cannae when the Roman army was surrounded and slaughtered.

He couldn't contain his smirk. _Are you watching, Apollo?_

_Boom!_ Another clap of thunder.

But the battle wasn't over yet. The Romans managed to take down two hellhounds, minimizing their casualty count. Percy kept attacking in holes here and there, but their defensive formation was difficult to pierce.

A part of him felt proud. With Marius' reforms, and Caesar's legions, he had helped develop Rome's infantry tactics so that even the stupidest of men could fight in battle. The Romans, raised and conditioned for war, were far more receptive to the idea than the idiotic Greeks of the old era. Even in the present, Chiron essentially forbade him from training Greek heroes that made it to camp. And even though he'd been involved in the affairs of the gods ever since he returned from exile, it was pretty much impossible for him to keep track of every demigod in existence.

The other part of him was annoyed. He'd made it _too_ effective. Once the Greeks during the Peloponnesian War decided that they would rather fight amongst themselves than direct their attention to their true enemy, Percy changed up his plan from supporting the Greeks to turning the Republic into a tyrannical empire, easily manipulable from behind the scenes. It took until after Archimedes helped fix his mind for his plan for revenge to truly begin, and by then the Greek city-states were run by tyrants served by self-interest. The Greeks would have to fall to rise again.

With three of the hellhounds gone, the Romans split into two groups and advanced in opposite directions.

Percy was forced deeper into the water while the larger group of Romans advanced on Thanas. Thanas was in trouble.

Percy growled and cut down two more Romans. He couldn't afford to summon a large wave and disorient the Romans without putting Thanas at risk. He could drown the group in front of him, but in the time it would take him to do that, the Romans would already have had a sufficient opportunity at killing Thanas. And the Romans were a lot stronger than Thanas' undead army with their numerical advantage.

He knew it was probably stupid to put the Trio right into battle without training them first, but the Eleventh was isolated _and_ it was the smallest remaining legion. It would be silly not to try while they were preparing to move, while they were reeling from earlier casualties and the wounded.

Percy bit his tongue and made his move. He summoned the lake and bent it to his will. He swept up the group of surprised-looking Romans and pulled them into the lake. In their armour, they had no chance of surviving. Twenty Romans would rest at the bottom of the lake until their bodies decomposed.

He could feel them struggling against his grip, but he clenched his fist and concentrated. After a few moments, the resistance stopped.

The sun's glare seemed a little bit harsher than before, but that only encouraged him. He whirled around at the other Romans with a smile. The ones at the back were staring at him in shock, yelling at the others to pay attention.

Percy screamed as loud as he could, mimicking the battle cries from the old days in Troy. The winds picked up around him, feeding off the energy of the lake. As he advanced, the winds grew into a storm. Lightning flickered around him, and his ears popped.

The last hellhound howled as the Romans temporarily halted their advance. Using Percy's show of power as a distraction, the beast trampled over several surprised Romans. Several more frightened Romans fled.

Percy summoned his bow and picked them off before they could disappear into the wild.

The ground rumbled, and more undead warriors began to crawl out of the earth. Percy looked over and saw Thanas off to the side resting on his Stygian iron sword. He was panting, clearly tired from summoning the hellhounds and undead warriors.

Despite Roman prowess in battle, they were susceptible to many weaknesses, as with any army. Once caught off-guard, immediate attacks would prevent them from reforming their ranks. Especially if the threat came from all sides. Many of the new undead warriors were missile units, meaning slingers and archers.

Unable to cohesively switch to testudo, the rocks and arrows picked apart the dense center of the formation.

There were, at his count, only five Romans who successfully fled when the fight was over.

Thanas saluted all the undead warriors, and they collapsed into piles of bones and sank into the ground. The last hellhound had been killed by the Romans.

Percy smiled at him, impressed by the number of undead he'd summoned. "Good job."

Thanas shook out his sword arm. There was bad cut near his elbow, but he didn't seem fazed. "What about the five who fled? We need to catch them."

Percy shook his head. "They'll be headed back to the encampment. They won't know that Leon and Xanthe will have attacked. By now, the whole place should be flooded and burning. Once they're all there, we'll finish them off."

The son of Hades nodded.

"Here, give me your arm."

Percy took his arm and performed a bit of magic. It wasn't strong, probably because he'd spent much of his energy fighting the Romans, but it was enough to stop the bleeding. Thanas muttered a thanks underneath his breath and continued forward.

The two of them cleaned up the bodies. Percy counted roughly eighty in total. When they were done, they made their way back to the camp.

Thanas looked tired. Percy watched the boy's gait. He dragged his feet often when he walked. If the Hunters were watching him, they'd figure out how to identify Thanas pretty easily. Quietly, he shuffled behind Thanas and covered up his tracks.

As expected, when they arrived at the encampment, it looked almost deserted. The moat was now full of lake water. Several of the buildings were on fire, and bodies were strewn everywhere.

Percy marveled at the damage. It must have taken a lot of energy for Leon and Xanthe to cause this much destruction. Around the camp, there were several Romans still alive. Some had incapacitating injuries and would die soon anyway. Some were simply trapped underneath the debris and wreckage.

One by one, Percy executed them. The two of them trudged through the camp to make sure there were no survivors until dusk. The count was about one hundred and twenty.

"Where's the last bunch?" Percy asked.

Thanas stared what looked to be a dead couple, reaching out for one another in death. The man had a hole in his chest and the woman had drowned. "Everyone we scouted is dead. Drowned. Burnt to ash. Suffocation. Killed in battle."

Percy pursed his lips. "Are you confident in saying that?"

He hesitated for a moment. "I... I think so. If there's anyone we missed... there's too few of them for it to matter."

"And the Sky and Sea?"

"Safe." He winced and brought a hand to his chest. He mumbled quietly. "Shit..."

"What's wrong?"

"Ionna..." Thanas trailed off, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

"What about Ionna?" Percy asked.

"I..."

"Who goes there?"

Instinctively, Percy ducked behind cover. Thanas followed his lead, though his expression was become increasingly concerning. Peeking out, Percy saw a couple of soldiers crest the hill at the center of the encampment, overlooking everything. They were dressed in more modern armor, the lamellar-type of body armor rather than the segmented cuirass of the traditional Romans, and had rounder shields. These weren't traditional Romans. They were the Emperor's troops.

"We should go," Percy told Thanas.

The son of Hades nodded, turning and sneaking toward the back entrance to the camp.

"They're probably no threat," Percy whispered. He kept his eyes on the soldiers. "But we have to be careful."

"Ionna..." Thanas grunted. His voice was strained. "We need to get to Ionna."

"We have to find the others first," Percy said, slipping into the shadow of the tree, careful not expose himself as the Emperor's soldiers examined the burning wreckage. "Xanthe and Leon are probably off to the west anyway."

Thanas cursed, clutching his chest as if in pain. "Ionna's in danger, though. I can sense something's off."

Percy stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was being extra sensitive. But he trusted Thanas' senses. He doubted Thanas was feigning worry for a show. He gestured downstream, and the two of them snuck off. As they followed the stream, Percy kept watch with Anaklusmos drawn. "How _off_? What kind of danger is she in?"

"I can't tell exactly."

"Thanks. That helps."

"I just mean that I can't pinpoint how much trouble she's in," Thanas scowled. Worry returned to his eyes. "I feel like if we don't go now, something bad _will_ happen. We can't let her die. I... I know Xanthe and Leon are important, but Ionna holds the key. If she's really off to find the old statue, then she can tip the scales of the war in our favour."

He was right. Percy muttered a few curses under his breath. They hadn't developed a contingency plan just in case things had gone wrong. Percy stopped and turned to the stream.

Thanas stared at him. "What are you doing?"

Percy dropped to a knee and dipped his fingers into the water. "Are you there, spirit of the creek? Answer my call."

They waited in silence for a few moments. There was nothing but the dribble of the stream, the flickering moonlight, and cool night air. Then, the river seemed to pick itself up. A figure emerged, stepping out of the water and onto land. The water morphed into the form of a young woman around Xanthe's age.

"You stain the soil with blood," the naiad said darkly. "What more do you ask for?"

Percy gestured back to where they came from. "A child of the sea and a child of the sky are out there somewhere. If you find them, tell them to go to Rome."

The naiad stared at him. "And in return?"

"A blessing from Poseidon." He reached into his pocket and produced a sand dollar. "Expunge the filth from your waters."

The naiad took it carefully. A trace of a smile graced her lips. "You will have your wish granted. Be careful, son of Poseidon. Your enemies lie in wait. And the worst one of them all is right on your heels."

She took a step back, put her feet in the creek, and smiled before turning into water and melting away.

Percy ignored the strange look Thanas was giving him. He knew who the naiad was talking about. The enemy right on his heels was himself. He set his jaw and gestured west.

"Let's go. To Rome."

* * *

**Hey, y'all. I know it's been a while (3 weeks, in fact). Again, I always want to stay a certain of chapters ahead of what I'm posting, and so far I've been writing a bunch of excerpts for chapters ahead that differ from one another. Actually, right now I'm at a certain part of the story where I know what I want to happen before and what I want to happen after, but I want to put something in the middle that makes it flow a little better. The problem I'm running into is taking the time to develop characters' relationships while making it meaningful to the plot. In my head, I understand how they feel and why the story will end the way it does, but you all can't read my mind.**

**I'll do my best to try and develop the characters more, but don't be surprised if I fall flat. I'm not really a writer. I just do this for fun.**

**Have a great weekend!**

**Sharky**


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"You knew she was going to Rome," Thanas said as their boat cut through the waters. "You know what awaits her. You said it yourself. You're a descendant of Athena. Why couldn't you do it instead of her? You're not afraid of what comes at the end."

Percy simply looked away. "I've sailed this sea many times. Far more than I can even remember. I'll never forget the first time I sailed these waters. We called it the Sea of Kronos back then. Now, I believe it is called the Ionian Sea. A small part of the greater Mediterranean Sea. Back then, we'd just escaped the grasps of Scylla and Charybdis. It felt like we'd conquered the world."

"You're not answering my question," Thanas said sharply. He wasn't here to listen to someone talk about the 'good old days'. He needed to save Ionna as fast as possible.

"We have time, Thanas," Percy sighed. "We won't land in Rome for at least a couple more days. I'm possessing this boat, yes, but I can't make it go any faster than it will let me."

"Why didn't we just sail to the east coast of Italia and cross over?" Thanas snapped in annoyance. "It would have been a shorter route."

"Perhaps distance-wise, yes," Percy agreed. He glanced toward the shoreline in the distance. "But you seem to be forgetting something. Are you the son of the mountain gods? Are you the son of tunnel gods? No, as a son of Hades, you are the son of the Lord of the Dead. A true child of the Underworld, unlike the children of Pluto and their control of _riches_. Crossing the Apennines would take us longer than circling around the south. I _am_ a son of Poseidon, after all."

Thanas scowled. He didn't like that the immortal demigod was making sense. "Whatever."

They sailed in silence for a while. Percy kept his eyes trained on the horizon, as if waiting for something to appear.

Thanas didn't feel very comfortable in the boat. All around him was the power of the sea, all under control of his uncle Poseidon. If the Sea God was even just a little angry, Thanas felt like he was going to drown with the snap of the god's fingers.

"Trust me," Percy said calmly. "Nothing's going to happen. These trips take time. That's all there is to it."

Thanas also couldn't believe the stark contrast between the Percy that helped them destroy the Eleventh Legion and the Percy sitting in front of him. It was almost as if there was a switch in his head that turned him from a cold-hearted killer to a soft-spoken guide. Granted, he liked _this_ Percy better. The other Percy made him feel unsettled. Thanas knew he was powerful himself. He knew Xanthe was even more powerful. And he knew Leon had that lightning in his bag of tricks. But Percy was on a whole other level. Not only did he have an insane level of power. Not only was he immortal and immune to disease and sickness. But he was also a demonic and skilled fighter.

The way he'd taken out five Romans at once without fatally wounding any of them was something he figured he'd never see again. Of course, a part of that was the element of surprise. They weren't exactly ready for battle. But the other part was the finesse of a true warrior.

The bronze blade he wielded was deadly. Thanas could tell that it had been infused with bronze—the type of bronze that mortals must have used two thousand years ago. But Percy could also summon a bow and was an expert marksman. He'd also used the Romans' javelins and spears like they were second nature. It was as if he knew how to use every weapon known to humankind. And the way he mercilessly executed the survivors... It made Thanas shudder.

Still, he was just one man. One man couldn't destroy the world on his own.

"How old are you?" Thanas blurted out as the thought came to mind.

Percy turned to stare at him, and for a moment Thanas thought he was going to die. But the son of Poseidon turned away and said, "I'm not sure myself. When I took a little journey away from home, I lost track of time. Different people have different ways of measuring time. And, as you know, I don't age. But from all the records I could find, I was probably born somewhere between 1,600 to 1,800 years ago."

Thanas blanched. "That's..."

"Before even the time of Homer," Percy finished. He laughed. "It _has_ been a long time, hasn't it? All the distorted tales of history? Wrong. Whatever Chiron has told you is probably true. He's older than all of us."

"You... you lived in the... the Age of Heroes?" Thanas could hardly speak without stuttering. He was amazed to see someone that old sitting in front of him. Especially since Percy looked like he was younger than him. "That's insane. You knew some of those heroes?"

"Knew?" The son of Poseidon raised his eyebrows. "I knew some. Some more than others. Thanas, I _was_ one of those heroes."

Thanas' jaw couldn't possibly drop any farther.

"You seem a lot more stunned than I expected you to be," Percy chuckled. He stared back out at the horizon. "Yes, I'm from that time period."

"That's so cool," Thanas mumbled, still in disbelief. "You were a hero? How come there were no stories about you? When were you born? In the age of Perseus and Bellerophon and Cadmus? During the Trojan War and Achilles' and Odysseus' reign?"

"The Argonauts," Percy replied. "I was an Argonaut. Achilles... he was my first and last pupil. After that, well, I went for a trip to the east and when I came back... everything was gone. Though, I was able to keep Heracles' lineage alive until all of Alexander's children were killed off by Roman spies. Funny how that works. I ended up killing all of Aeneas' descendants just a few hundred years later. In any case, I'm old. And I've been through a lot."

Thanas could hardly believe it. He was talking to a hero from the Age of Heroes. And the mystery behind Achilles' trainer was solved. He always wondered why Chiron seemed so hesitant whenever Achilles was brought up in conversation aside from that one story he always told.

"As for why I didn't substitute for Ionna," Percy said at last. "That's because I _can't_ substitute. Maybe my blood is too diluted. Maybe only her sons and daughters can complete the task, but when I first found out about the Mark of Athena, my first reaction was to find it and follow it. But the map doesn't show itself to me. I followed a son of Athena to Rome. I watched as he descended the steps and watched as he never came back. Dozens more children of Athena came. Eventually, I found out what was awaiting them in the pit. Just by interrogating children of Athena and figuring out the dreams they'd been having, I found out why it had been so impossible for them to succeed. The god Mithras, which the Greeks adopted from Persia, became popular in Rome about four or five hundred years ago. In my haste, I left the children of Athena to their own devices and led the Gothic sack of Rome, hoping to open a clear path to victory. With the fall of Rome, the cult of Mithras fell. I should have collected more information about Mithras before it was effectively impossible to learn more since the Roman cult differed from the Persian cult.

"In the past hundred or so years, there have been two children of Athena other than Ionna, who I have helped. I told them all I knew about Mithras. Neither of them survived. What they face after Mithras is more difficult. Ionna is smart. She can get past the Mithras temple without dying. Arachne is what I worry about."

Thanas went silent. He closed his eyes, praying to all the gods that she would make it out alive.

"I would have done it if I could," Percy repeated. "But I'm not allowed."

Thanas felt weak. He couldn't protect the ones he loved as he thought he could. And ever since they attacked the Eleventh Legion, the doubts began to swirl in his mind. He wasn't entirely sure he could kill all the Romans like Percy. The Romans had always seemed so foreign before, like a machine made of flesh warriors. But the way they had been laughing around the campfire reminded him of his time at his camp.

He could kill if he had to, but he didn't feel so good about what he was doing anymore.

"How do you kill without feeling remorse?" Thanas asked Percy.

Percy glanced at him. "Kill without feeling remorse? I don't think that's possible. Killing another human is a tragic fate that will scar anyone. Though, I've met some people who enjoy harming others. They aren't in the right mind. Those people are insane."

"But—" Thanas caught himself. _Look at you_, he wanted to say. He figured that the son of Poseidon wouldn't take too kindly to that assessment, so he held back.

Percy smiled sadly. The horizon seemed to be his best friend. He kept looking at it. "Delude yourself, Thanas. There are many ways that I've seen people deal with killing. Some pretend that the person on the opposite end of their weapon is a monster. Some convince themselves that the person on the other end will kill them if they don't kill first. Others believe that the ones they kill aren't actually humans, but rather some entity pretending to be a human."

Thanas swallowed. "And you?"

"I'm not killing humans," Percy said. His eyes looked lost, as if clouded over by hatred and insanity. "I'm destroying Apollo and Mars. I'm exacting revenge."

He remembered their second day of scouting the Roman camp when Xanthe told him about her dream from the night just before Percy approached them. The difference between the Percy that Xanthe had told him about in her dream and the difference between the Percy that sat in front of him never seemed greater than at that moment. The Percy in Xanthe's dream wanted to protect the village. He wanted to save Nabu and Ubar and the family. He valued each individual life.

"Why don't you rest?" Percy suggested. His voice was quiet again. "I'll wake you up at dawn."

Thanas nodded, and he started dreaming as soon as his eyes closed.

"Run, Percy!" a girl shouted, running past Percy. Some of her hair had been sliced off. She stopped and shouted at Percy. "Come on! Why are you standing there?"

They were in a forest somewhere. It looked foreign. Percy was holding something by his waist, but Thanas couldn't see what it was. The shadows masked its identity. Looking around, Thanas realized that they were fighting a familiar creature.

The manticore growled as he appeared in their line of sight. A barrage of spikes sliced toward them, but Percy immediately raised his arm. A shield, bearing the horrible face of Medusa, appeared in the darkness. It glowed bronze and looked so menacing in the moonlight that Thanas flinched. The spikes slammed hard into the shield, but the magic shield didn't even dent. It was Aegis, a replica of the shield-form of Athena's gift from the original Perseus.

"Where did you—?" the girl said breathlessly.

At the sight of Medusa on the shield, the manticore recoiled and hissed. He threw some more spikes at Percy, but the shield held its ground. "Where did you get that?" the manticore growled.

"It's a present from a goddess," Percy said, lowering the shield. He gave the manticore a devilish grin. "And this is where you are going to die, manticore."

The girl slipped behind Percy and whispered, "I'll shoot arrows while you advance. Maybe if I get a good shot off, you'll be able to attack and kill it."

"Sounds like a plan," he replied.

And so the two advanced. Percy charged forward, holding his shield in front of him and his sword in a position where he could strike at a moment's notice. The girl, clearly a huntress of some sort, darted back and forth between the trees and let fly what seemed like her entire quiver. She moved smoothly and quickly, as if she'd trained her whole life. Her shots landed exactly where she intended to hit, slowly chipping away at the manticore's body.

The manticore looked fearful as the two advanced.

He slowly retreated. Any attempt at changing the angle was met by an arrow by the girl. The manticore was being forced to retreat in a linear path, coupled by the girl's excellent marksmanship and Percy's quick advance.

When Percy reached striking distance, the manticore turned to run. From experience, Thanas knew the manticore was incredibly fast and would definitely fling a set of five spikes toward the duo. But the girl fired an arrow so precise it hit the manticore's neck and froze him.

Percy lunged forward, slashing off the creature's tail and beheading him. Slowly, the manticore began to dissolve, leaving nothing but the tail.

Thanas could hardly believe it. Again, Percy's exploits amazed him. It took Ionna _and_ Xanthe as distractions, the help of a dozen skeleton warriors, a surprise ambush, and a poison wound on Xanthe's arm for them to defeat the manticore. Percy and that girl took on the manticore head-on and beat it with hardly a scratch.

The scene shifted.

Percy and the girl were sitting in the middle of a campsite. They looked like they'd just finished cooking dinner. They were giving offerings to the campfire, like they were thanking the gods.

"That was a brilliant idea you know," Percy complimented the girl. "Crazy but brilliant."

"Not really," she shook her head. "Crazy and insane is more like it. I bet on the fact that they would be stupid enough to take the bait. There were so many things that could have gone wrong, but they did exactly what I wanted."

"And that was because you _knew_ that they were going to do what they did," he argued. "You're brilliant and amazing."

The girl blushed. "I... I suppose."

"Well, that only leaves two more targets," Percy said, poking at the ground. "It'll be hard to defeat Lamia. She's sneaky and uses disguises very well. That might be from my father." He paused. "You know, it really isn't comforting knowing that I'm related to all of these monsters. I don't even know if my father will turn against me for what I do!"

"You think it's hard being related to monsters?" the girl scoffed. "Think about being related to Titans in a world where they lost the war. And then think about being related to Titans in a world where they lost the war _and_ being disowned by those Titan relatives. Who's my ally now?"

He gave her a smile. "I am. And you know what? If the gods are too paranoid and freaked out by you being Atlas' daughter, we can just forget about trying to start the Hunters of Artemis. We'll just go on living the rest of our lives together, as normal hunters."

Her eyes flickered with anticipation and hope. Her face was illuminated by the light, and Thanas got his first good look at her. She was beautiful and elegant, with dark eyes and dark skin and long dark hair. She looked like a Persian princess.

"That sounds nice," she said softly.

Percy stared at her for a moment before realizing what he was doing and looking away. He cleared his throat and looked up into the clouds. "Maybe we could earn a spot in the sky after completing feats that even the greatest of heroes would envy. We could be _Adelfia Aionios_."

"Eternal siblings?"

"Exactly. Eternal siblings forever."

The girl pursed her lips. "What about _Aionia Erastes_?"

Percy suddenly looked nervous. "Eternal lovers?"

"Eternal lovers," she nodded, looking up at the sky. "A tragic story where two societal outcasts come together and spend the rest of their lives loving each other until they die. Neither of them have any children, so their lineage dies with them."

He blinked. "For... for what happened to you... to joke about love like that..."

She smiled at him warmly. "It doesn't matter, Percy. When I'm around you... I feel comfortable enough to pretend. I know you well enough to understand your feelings about what happened to me. And in either case..." She hesitated. "Regardless, it's time for a little bit of rest. You're first watch."

She put a hand on his cheek and leaned in for a kiss.

When they broke apart, she said "Good night" before disappearing into the tent they had set up.

Percy sat there, absolutely stunned. After a while, he blinked and couldn't help but smile uncontrollably. He leaned against a tree and looked over at the occupied tent.

"Good night, Zoë."

* * *

Rage had devoured him.

Percy collapsed to the ground, sinking in the wet sand. He felt fatigued and raw, and though there was no visible damage to his skin he felt like he'd been trudging through red-hot lava.

It was the first time he'd let his rage consume him. He'd always been in control, but that was the first day he realized that he was truly the son of the Sea God. Wild and temperamental. Reckless and deadly.

The battle behind him still raged on, but on the beach everything was quiet. There was a trail of dead Greek soldiers behind him. And the sorrow and guilt of what he'd just done washed over him like the restless waves of the Aegean.

"Stop him!" Zoë's voice shouted from behind him.

Percy dropped to his knees. "What kind of monster am I?" he shouted. "What have I done?"

"Percy!"

He tore his breastplate off and brought the tip of Anaklusmos to his belly button. "Better to die than live dishonourably. To atone for what I have done to you, gods of Olympus!"

But just as he was about to stab himself, a hard kick sent Anaklusmos flying out of his hand and into the ocean. He felt someone, a smaller and slimmer figure wrap herself around his arms and legs, trying to prevent him from moving. She shouted, "Lock him! Paralyze him!"

Percy summoned a huge wave to flood the beach, sending Zoë hurtling up the beach. Percy grabbed Anaklusmos, which appeared at his feet, and plunged the blade deep into his abdomen. He cursed, feeling the blade cut open his intestines instead of plunging through his stomach. He ripped the sword free from his abdomen and collapsed.

Zoë crawled up toward him and held his wound. Anxiety sparkled in her eyes, which made him smile.

He knew he wouldn't die, but he remembered wanting to. He wanted to see Achilles. He wanted to apologize.

Zoë grabbed something from the Infinity Pouch and poured it onto his wound.

He reached up to feel Zoë's face, gently caressing it. Darkness began to envelope him. A lone salt tear fell into his open mouth before he lightly tapped the girl's nose.

Then everything went pitch black.

"I'm awake!" Percy shouted.

He opened his eyes to the sunrise. Thanas was lying across from him on the boat, still fast asleep.

_It was just a dream_, he thought. _Just a dream._

Percy wanted to stab Morpheus. Why was the god showing him dreams of his past? With that dream about Nabu and this dream, it was almost as if the god was trying to show him the error of his ways. He didn't want to listen. There was no other method. He'd learned that the hard way in the east. It took him hundreds of years of pain and suffering to figure it out. He wouldn't go soft again.

Trying to recover from what he did in the Trojan War only earned him exile. He wouldn't stop his hunt of Apollo and Mars' worshippers.

Percy stood up and stretched. He didn't feel all that good. Fortunately, Scylla and Charybdis had moved from their original position near Sicily, but a pretty fierce storm battered them down. While Thanas was sleeping, he managed to get through the storm without waking the young son of Hades.

He was still sore from their fight against the Eleventh Legion. It wasn't as if he hadn't fought an entire legion before. But the last time he tried he'd almost killed himself. This time, even with help of the most powerful demigods alive, he felt like he'd expended a week's worth of energy.

They were getting closer to Rome. His best estimate put them on course to reach Ostia by sundown.

"No..." Thanas mumbled in his sleep. His eyebrows were knit in worry. "Ionna..."

Percy let out a deep sigh. Even though it was his way of getting Thanas back into the battle, he still didn't feel good about leaving Ionna to her own devices. He was afraid that she would take things too quickly and advance before she was ready. He wanted Thanas to be able to save Ionna. She was valuable, both as a strategist and as a human being.

He shook his head and focused on the task at hand. He couldn't afford to get distracted by sentimentality.

"No!"

Thanas shot awake, shaking the boat.

Percy calmed the waters and stared at the son of Hades.

Thanas was breathing heavily. His eyes were wild.

"Ionna's in trouble. Right now."

* * *

**Life has gotten a little hectic all of a sudden, so I haven't been able to sit down and write a full chapter in a while. Fortunately, I've got spare time here and there where I've just been writing excerpts and stuff for later chapters, and all of a sudden I'm a bunch of chapters ahead. The chapters are shorter on average, but I feel okay with what I've written.**

**Because I've been writing this over a long period of time, there have been a lot of changes to how I've built this world. At first, this was meant to be a story about the Trio with Percy as a sort of guide. As you can tell, though, it really isn't. Even if many of the chapters are written from their perspective, the story has changed.**

**This will likely be the last story in the series, but the ending I've decided I want will leave it open-ended so if the few dozen of you that actively read the story want more, I can definitely conjure up something. The question will be when I finish this story. Hopefully by the end of the year :P**

**Jokes aside, here's a filler chapter. If you've read the previous two stories, you'll recognize the scenes above. I was going to hold off on updating for this weekend, but I realized that this chapter doesn't actually add anything new and ends on a nice little cliffhanger, so why not? Right?**

**Hope you American readers had a nice holiday last week, and hope July hasn't been too hot for everyone so far!**

**-Sharky**


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"Ionna?" Leon asked.

Xanthe cursed and swiped through the image. "They can't hear us. Why can't they hear us?"

Leon felt oddly calm. Despite the fact that they had, two days ago, raided an entire encampment and destroyed nearly every building, he felt like he had just returned from another hunting trip: tired, with a few cuts here and there, but otherwise unharmed.

Maybe he was just overwhelmed by the new environment. From meeting Xanthe once again, to Sophia's death, to unleashing his powers to defeat the Romans at the Greek camp, none of it felt real. He had no reason to be here fighting the Romans. But he had to admit that Percy was good at stoking fear. It wasn't his words, but the way he spoke and the dark look in his eyes scared him. He would rather have had that beautiful woman, Irene, be their leader.

They sat at the edge of the lake, near the ruins of the Roman camp. They were taking a break, having realized earlier that day that Percy and Thanas were no longer in the area.

When Xanthe thought she saw Marcus and summoned an enormous wave that ended up submerging him, they were both incapacitated. Xanthe put all her energy into drowning the camp, causing her to pass out.

Fortunately for Leon, he washed ashore on the other side of the lake and woke at dawn. It took him the whole morning to find Xanthe sitting on the southern shore, staring blankly at the beach, as if terrified by what she had just done.

Since then, they'd been trying to find Percy and Thanas, but there was no sign of them. It was as if they disappeared. The evidence—the dead bodies in the camp, marked by slit throats and wrists—clearly showed that the two had made their way back to the camp.

He hadn't really dealt with Iris-messages before. That was a new form of communication to him. But it was the first thing Xanthe had thought of when he suggested they try using some sort of magic.

Leon put a hand on her shoulder. She looked him straight in the eye. "Hey, Xanthe. Calm down. We've tried several times, but if they can't hear us, then there's a reason. Now, onto more topical matters, who's Ionna? Both times we've tried contacting them, they were talking about Ionna."

She pressed her lips together. "Ionna... is a daughter of Athena. Thanas and Ionna were... kind of together back before she left to find the Mark of Athena. I mean, 'kind of' is a bad phrase to describe it, but you know what I mean, right?"

Leon let out a bark of laughter. "No, I really don't."

Xanthe took a deep breath. "Okay, look, Thanas proposed to Ionna before she left to find the Mark of Athena. I'll get to that part in a moment. Ionna, who _wants_ to marry Thanas, told him to wait until she came back from her mission. I don't think she knows what happened to camp so I'm not sure how that's going to work. But, anyway, the thing is... Thanas had a dream about Ionna and found out that Percy knew Ionna. Percy could have prevented her from following the Mark, but Percy didn't stop her."

"And you know this how...?" he asked.

She stared at him like he'd just fallen from the sky. "I exchanged information with him obviously. Listen, I think you're trustworthy and all, but we've known each other for maybe a week or two now. I've known Thanas for years. We're not exactly going to tell you everything right away, even if we met for like half a day five or six years ago."

"Fair enough," Leon sighed.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Percy knew Ionna. Thanas probably doesn't like that fact."

"Why?" he asked. The sun was beginning to set. They would have to light the fire they set up soon. He wanted to finish this conversation first. He had a feeling he could figure out where Percy and Thanas had gone. "The Mark of Athena. What's that?"

"I'm not exactly sure myself," Xanthe said with uncertainty. "It's a coin, I think. Or a symbol. But Ionna had an old Athenian coin. She said it would lead her to what she needed to find. She did research and figured out that it was the Athena Parthenos. That's what the Mark of Athena would lead her to."

"The Athena Parthenos?" Leon pursed his lips. "Is that the statue that used to stand in the palace in Athens?"

Xanthe nodded. "It disappeared. No one knew what happened to it. Ionna found Romans that claimed the statue was in Ravenna. Others in Mediolanum. Some say Carthage. But the place where the most evidence pointed to was Rome itself. Ionna said that, when Athens fell, the other largest cities in Italia were Neapolis and Capua, both of which were close to Rome. Rome dwarfed any other city in the empire except for Alexandria in Egypt. It seemed to make sense that the Romans would heavily guard the Athena Parthenos and make it as hard as possible for children of Athena to recover it."

"So... don't you think Thanas would wanted to have gone after her?" he suggested. "If she's in Rome, then that's probably where he and Percy are headed."

"But why would he leave us?" Xanthe's eyes widened. "No, it can't be—"

"Ionna must be in trouble," Leon confirmed. "He's a son of Hades. He can sense these sorts of things, right?"

"Why didn't I think of that sooner?" she mumbled.

He stared out at the lake. "You were too focused on trying to get their attention, too focused on looking at their surroundings. The answer was the most obvious component of what we saw. They were arguing about Ionna. If Thanas is really in love with her, he'd obviously try to go save her. Is the Athena Parthenos a secret Greek weapon? It has to be important for both of them to head off like that."

"It can change the tide of the war," she nodded. "Ionna said that its power would restore the Greek fighting spirit. Especially now, when we can't afford to fight amongst ourselves, it would unite us under one banner and allow us to push back against the Romans."

_That sounds like a powerful statue_, he thought.

Everything made sense now. For the past few days, they'd been frustrated at not being able to find the other two. All this time, Xanthe had the answer. She just couldn't piece it together. It wasn't her fault. It hadn't occurred to them what information they needed to look for.

"How do we get to Rome from here?" Xanthe asked. "I've only been around the homeland. Thessaly, Attica, Macedonia. I've never been west to Italia."

"Neither have I," Leon said, "but my uncle used to take me around the trading routes up toward what used to be Dalmatia after we took it back from the Ostrogoths. One of the main ports used to transport troops from Epirus and Dalmatia was Apollonia. We can take a boat and sail right around the peninsula. It's the fastest route."

"Boat?" She scanned him up and down as if to check if he was sane. "You're a son of Zeus."

"And? Your dad wouldn't capsize a boat with you on it, right?"

"I would survive capsizing." She raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't."

"You wouldn't let me die, would you?"

She didn't respond.

He grabbed her hand. "What if I kept holding onto you? You'd have to save me then."

Xanthe pulled her hand away, her ears turning red. "I don't have to save you."

"Even if it's to go save Ionna?" Leon couldn't help but smirk at her embarrassment. "Come on, I'm not that bad. Besides, you have to make it up to me. You know, for nearly drowning me earlier."

"Maybe I _should_ have drowned you," she muttered, turning away from him. "You're super annoying."

"What happened to 'stay safe'? Was that a lie? You don't just tell someone to stay safe and then try to kill them behind their back. That's just not nice."

"How are you even like this?" Xanthe said, staring at him like he'd grown two heads. "You said you were in a village that believed against your very existence. How can you be so joyful?"

"Feigning happiness is a strength of mine," he admitted. "I've had a lot of practice."

Xanthe rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"Well, sucks to be you because you're going to have to get stuck on a boat with me for a few days to get to Rome. Maybe we'll actually bond and become friends. Who knows? I've never had a festive party after committing mass murder before."

She frowned. "You make it sound like what we did was a heinous crime."

"Wasn't it?"

She hesitated. "I... Well, it's war. They'll kill us if we don't kill them."

"Right? It's this dichotomy, this 'us against them' mentality, that drives all of this. But if you look at it from a grander view... isn't it just a crime? If the so-called enemy was replaced with your own kind, it would just be a terrible act, wouldn't it?"

Xanthe stared at him strangely, like it was a foreign concept. "Leon. This is different. It's not a game. It's a matter of survival. You saw yourself how they advanced on the camp, intent on killing us. You saw how many of us died."

Leon remembered. He didn't know the number, but he saw the line of funeral pyres in Thessalonica burning before they'd set off toward Constantinople. The Romans had easily ambushed the Greek envoy and struck more than a handful of demigods.

"I'm not saying the Romans were righteous people," he sighed. He didn't know how to explain it to her. "I'm just not really a part of this world yet. I'm still adjusting. And, I guess, my foreign perspective hasn't blurred the fact that we just killed over a hundred human beings. I don't know the cruel things the Romans have done to our kind. I've lived my life in a bubble, in isolation."

It was hard to explain the feelings he had when it came to killing humans. Everything reminded him of that day when he killed his uncle, when he first became a murderer. It wasn't exactly guilt, otherwise he wouldn't have kept it from his village. But it wasn't indifference either. He just felt lost, like he'd punched a hole in his chest and left it there, empty and cold.

It was easier to get over it when he _knew_ the people he was killing were bad. But those Roman kids looked as ordinary as could be.

Xanthe was right, though. It was war. They had to do what they had to do.

The two of them found their way into the brush, deciding to head off to Apollonia. If they could find their way back to the main road, Leon was pretty confident that he could navigate toward the coastal town. His uncle had brought him along the route several times.

As they walked alongside a small stream, something stirred in the waters.

"Wait, Leon!"

He froze, turning to face the daughter of Poseidon. She stared at the water for a moment before a young girl stepped out of the creek. Leon took an instinctive step backwards. He didn't have fond memories of naiads.

"Percy told you to notify us," Xanthe said matter-of-factly. She pointed back to where they'd come from. "That's why you've been following us this whole way. You were trying to get my attention, weren't you?"

The naiad nodded politely. She gave Xanthe a smile. "You seek to travel to Rome. My sisters and I can deliver you to the shoreline. Ride my stream down to the river, and the other naiads will bring you out to sea on a raft. Once in Apollonia, you may choose the boat that best suits you. You will know which way to go, your father guides you at sea. The Lord has given permission for the Sky Spawn to travel with you."

"Sky Spawn?" Leon blinked.

"Your master has led you down a difficult path, a path he has carved and forged by his own misfortunes," the naiad continued, ignoring him. "You will undoubtedly face obstacles along the way. But you all have your hearts in the right place, regardless of the barbarity of your actions. Channel them and destroy the beast the lingers within your master. For there are few who _can_, and the livelihood of us all may be at stake if he continues."

_Master? She must be talking about Percy. What beast?_

Xanthe seemed to understand, at least at a rudimentary level. "How do we travel along the waters? Do we walk?"

"You can walk," the naiad agreed. Her gaze turned toward Leon. "Or you can do this..."

Before he even knew what was happening, the naiad yanked him into the creek. He thrashed around wildly in panic. "I can't swim! Don't you dare do this to me!"

But he could see Xanthe's eyes light up with amusement.

"Let's do it!"

And, with absolutely no control over his body, the current swept him downstream toward the main river, somehow not drowning him in the process.

* * *

They arrived in Ostia fairly quickly.

Being swept down by the torrent of the river must have sped up the time it took to reach Apollonia from Lychnidos. Leon hoped that made up for the couple days they lost while searching for the two. He was also glad that the boat ride went alright. It turned out the only bad part about it was how easily he got seasick. And maybe the dreams of Percy nearly going insane as he struggled with his inner demons.

Italia was a wasteland after decades of war. It was a difficult time for Italians in this day and age. Rome, consisting of the entire city and its surrounding neighborhoods, was a giant battlefield. He'd heard lots from his classmates in the military school in Thessalonica and from the old seer.

The people in Ostia looked weary from the years of war. No one seemed particularly responsive to their arrival. Hardly anyone paid attention to them as they rented a couple of horses from the stables.

As they rode along the road, Leon could see the remnants of the devastation.

It was obvious that, at some point in the past, the lands around them were neighborhoods in the outskirts of Rome. Old, empty, rundown homes were visible on both sides of the road. Some places looked like they'd been burned to the ground. Others still stood, but had been empty for so long that wild plants grew through the brick and mortar and wood.

It made him feel a little sad. Back when Rome was the most powerful nation in the known world, this area was one of the most prosperous regions. Rome had become a multicultural haven, mixing old Roman tradition with a variety of foreign cultures like Greek philosophy, Celtic culture, Carthaginian religions, Egyptian technologies. Fast-forward a few hundred years, and it was nothing more than a shell of its former self.

They stopped on one of the hills south of the city, looking down at the Aurelian Walls. They could see all seven hills, the ruins of the old buildings still standing upright. Further south, there was a large encampment. It looked like Emperor Justinian's army. They must've been fighting with the Ostrogoths over the city. He suspected the Ostrogoths were in the north part of the city.

"Rome must have been so beautiful," Xanthe said softly. "Look at the Colosseum."

Leon nodded. The rundown amphitheatre still stood tall and proud near the center of the city. The Circus Maximus was also there, empty and unkempt. There were people inside the city, but they looked like troops tending to the wounded and the fallen.

They soaked in the view. A refreshing, light breeze began to pick up, cooling them off from the hot weather. It was the late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to set.

"Tell me more about Ionna," he said. "What was she like?"

Xanthe turned to stare at him. He knew it was a sudden question, but it just felt like the right timing. After a while, she turned back to face the city and sighed. "Amazing."

"Just that one word describes her?"

"Smart, kind, ambitious. There. A few more words."

Leon could see her sad expression. He had a feeling Xanthe expected Ionna to die. If the statue was really hidden by the Romans, they wouldn't put it anywhere without placing traps around it. He got the feeling that it was a dangerous quest. Xanthe didn't show it, but she was clearly close to the daughter of Athena. Her eyes gave it away. The daughter of Poseidon wasn't good at concealing her emotions.

"She and Thanas..." Xanthe paused. "They were a beautiful couple. I've never seen two people more comfortable with each other in my life. They could trust each other with their lives and then some. I always admired Ionna. She was always calm and collected. Her level-headedness in tough situations is something that I could never learn." She glanced at him. "In a way, she was like you. She wasn't fazed by anything. Or if she was, she never showed it."

"You're speaking about her in the past tense," he pointed out.

She bit her lip and looked down. "I... I'm preparing myself for the worst."

He sighed sadly and put a hand on her shoulder. "Keep talking. Let it all out. I find it helps me cope. It might work for you, too."

Xanthe took a deep breath through her nose. Her eyes were watery. "Ionna. She _is_ amazing. I'll never forget the day that we fought the manticore together. It was so hard to defeat it, but she came up with this brilliant plan. I don't even know if I ever understood what was happening. It was just crazy. But, most of all, I feel the worst for Thanas. He really loves her. I can't imagine what must be going through his mind, knowing that she's in a life-or-death situation right now."

"Did they always love each other?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, giving him a small smile. "When I first got to camp not long after we met for the first time, I didn't see any signs of them being in love with each other. But maybe I was just too young to understand. The... the first time I saw signs was probably a couple years ago. I'd just come back from that mission with Viviana and Alexandros, the one where we'd failed to save the daughter of Ares. The two were sitting by the lake, surprisingly, laughing and playing around like they were having the time of their lives. I remember standing and watching them from a distance, seeing the pure joy in their eyes. It made me feel... happy. It's hard to describe. It's like this giddy feeling. Just seeing them together made me feel warm inside. It helped that I was close to her. She was like an older sister, a mentor, to me. She always played the role of mediator when Thanas and I would fight and, somehow, I could never really get mad at her even though she often took Thanas' side."

"I get what you mean." He squeezed her shoulder to comfort her. "I don't know the exact feeling, but I get what you're trying to say."

She sniffled and brushed the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry for being a mess. I cried back when we were in Troy, and I was fussy before we attacked the Eleventh Legion because I was scared to fight my half-brother. I have to be leaving a bad impression."

"No, you're not. It's okay to be emotional. Bottling up your sorrow will only make it more painful." He swallowed, the memory of killing his uncle flashing in his mind. "Trust me. I get it."

"You're... you're pretty personable, you know?" she said. "Even if that village of yours thinks of you as some spawn of Satan, they must have raised you well. Maybe that joke about drowning you back in Lychnidos was uncalled for."

"Nah." He brushed her off and shot her a grin. "I can easily blast you with lightning. With the snap of my fingers, you'd be out cold."

"Yeah, right," she snorted.

Leon shrugged, suppressing his amusement. "Well, it's true. I mean, I'm powerful enough to survive on my own when you needed a whole camp to protect you. I could defeat you in a fight in the blink of an eye."

"Do you want to test that theory?" Xanthe challenged. But her eyes were shining and she was smiling from ear to ear. She wasn't angry at all.

He pulled his hand off her shoulder and turned to face the city. "Even though I could defeat you with the snap of my fingers, I'd honestly rather fight _alongside _you. Or even protect you. You're a lot more beautiful when you're smiling and laughing."

Xanthe smirked. "And do you expect me to say you're handsome in return?"

"I don't need your validation to know that I'm handsome."

"You're being overconfident, don't you think? You're slightly above average at best."

"Even if I was slightly above average, you would still fall for me."

"In your dreams, Leon."

"Maybe. But I'm sure it can become reality too."

Xanthe opened her mouth to retort when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Leon followed her gaze to the plume of smoke rising from a building somewhere on the northern side of the city.

The two of them locked eyes and nodded. The bickering could be saved for later. They needed to find Thanas and Percy, and it was entirely possible that the two were involved in whatever had started that fire.

Leon snapped the reins of his horse. Side-by-side, he and Xanthe thundered down into the city and toward the wreckage.

They found Thanas standing still in the middle of an empty plaza near whatever was on fire, staring up at the smoke in a daze.

"Thanas!"

Leon followed Xanthe's lead and dismounted his horse.

Xanthe rushed forward to her old friend and hugged him. The plaza was barren. Not a single remnant of the old architecture remained. It looked like the place had been recently burned to the ground. Leon stepped around the rubble and approached the two. Leon noticed that Percy wasn't with him.

"You're okay!" Xanthe exclaimed. She glanced around and frowned. "But where's Percy?"

Thanas shook his head absentmindedly. "I don't know. He... he was here when I dozed off. I woke up and he was just... gone. I don't know if he went off somewhere or not. I remember... him telling me that he sensed some sort of danger before I fell asleep."

"There was danger alright," Leon said. He saw a dying fire breathe its last breath as it sizzled to a stop. "It looks like this place was on fire just a few hours ago."

"That explains the smoky smell," Thanas nodded. Then he pointed at the plume of smoke. "Also the funeral pyres."

"Is that what they are?" Leon frowned.

"Yeah."

Thanas' voice was shaky.

Leon glanced at Xanthe. She looked worried. Stepping forward, he put a hand on Thanas' shoulder. "Hey, are you okay? You sound like you've been haunted by a ghost. And I'm not just saying that because you're a son of Hades."

Thanas shook his head. "I just... I'm really confused. Percy doesn't appear to be in any danger. I don't sense anything. But why isn't he here? It was like he just got up and left. But that doesn't seem like him. He was really into helping us destroy the legions. He wanted to bring me here to help save Ionna. He looked genuinely worried for her. I just... And now you guys are here... How did you even get here?"

Xanthe grinned. She gave Leon a smirk. "Leon's amazing, you know."

He shook his head. He wasn't amazing. But he returned her smirk, unable to help himself.

"We were talking on the beach after the battle," she explained. She seemed really excited for some reason. "I was pretty distraught about losing you and Percy. I knew you guys survived, but I just didn't know where you'd gone. We'd searched the whole area for two days, but there was no sign of you guys. I tried an Iris message, but it didn't seem like you guys could hear us. All I knew was that you guys were arguing about Ionna. Then, I told Leon about Ionna and her quest. I know it's personal, but I think Leon's been through enough with us to learn about your proposal to Ionna. Leon immediately suggested that we come to Rome because that's where you'd likely be if you and Percy disappeared like that. Then we found the naiad that Percy must've contacted and... well, we're here."

Thanas didn't seem interested in talking about their conversation. His ears perked up at the mention of Ionna, as if it suddenly occurred to him that saving her was his goal, and his eyes lit up with worry.

Thanas cursed. "Ionna!"

"Is she okay?" Xanthe asked.

Thanas immediately started to walk forward.

They made it precisely forty paces before Thanas stopped.

He yelled, clutching at his chest and dropping to his knees. He kept himself up with one hand, but he'd clearly sensed something heartbreaking.

"Thanas!" Xanthe exclaimed in worry. She knelt down beside him. "Thanas!"

Leon looked around. He saw warriors standing in the ruins around them. They wielded an assortment of weapons: clubs, spears, Roman swords. The main difference was their lamellar armour, a type of armour the Romans in that camp did not wear. He recognized them as Ostrogoths, Germanic warriors from the north. He'd heard of the war in the west from the seer, but he couldn't believe he was actually seeing it with his own eyes.

The Goths were big and fair. Many of them had lighter hair. But up close, they didn't seem all that different from themselves. There were just the small differences: the way they carried themselves, the language they were speaking.

A man stepped out into the plaza, and Leon caught his breath.

He was handsome. No, _beyond_ handsome, if that was even possible. Lean and muscular, he wore a somber expression. With honey gold eyes, black hair flowing down his shoulders, and skin the colour of teakwood, he almost looked like Eros. But Leon could tell he wasn't when he saw the body of the girl in his arms.

He seemed timeless and remote and, with his dark wings spread out behind him, Leon almost felt like bowing.

Xanthe looked up and gasped. A quiet whisper escaped her lips, "Ionna..."

"Thanatos," Leon muttered.

The god gave him a smile. "You recognize me, do you, son of Zeus?"

Leon couldn't take his eyes off Thanatos. His voice was smooth and melodious. "You're... an angel?"

"Much like the kind your mother and her people believe in, yes," Thanatos said. "But, alas, I only bring sad news."

"Ionna..." Thanas gasped, finally looking up.

Thanatos laid the body in front of them, and immediately Xanthe and Thanas rushed forward. The tears that had welled up in their eyes fell freely. Thanas let loose a guttural scream, full of all the pain and anguish in his heart. The air around them turned icy cold, and the patches of weeds and grass in their immediate vicinity turned black and shriveled up.

Leon felt a cold pain in his heart. He could see Thanas' old memories of Ionna, and all of Thanas' sorrow washed over the son of Zeus. He saw memories of Thanas and Ionna laughing as they played near the creek at camp. He saw Thanas and Ionna eating a meal together, staring at each other with loving eyes. He saw Thanas scare Ionna from behind, and the two bickering playfully. He saw the moment when Thanas proposed and the moment of happiness as the couple's eyes screamed love.

Now, her unmoving body lay on the ground in front of them in the heart of enemy territory.

"This is not the end," Thanatos said.

Neither Xanthe nor Thanas seemed to pay attention to him.

Leon stared at the god. "What do you mean?"

"When the time comes, you will understand," Thanatos said softly. Leon couldn't believe that this was the god of death. "You have always been loyal, Leon. In spite of the temperament you inherited from your father, your loyalty and attachment will serve you well in your quest. You will reel in the raging sea and you will control the shadows, stopping them from consuming the light. But when the time comes... even the calmest of storms can wreak havoc."

Leon wasn't sure if he understood him, but he put on a brave look and nodded. He looked down at the body of Ionna. She was pretty. Her honey-blonde hair made her somewhat unique. He'd only seen a few people with that hair in his entire life. Her eyes were closed, and she looked at peace, but Leon knew that her final moments were no more peaceful than war. Her skin was deathly pale, as if the blood had been drained out of her. A wound in her stomach showed two marks, as if giant pincers had pierced her abdomen.

"Spider..." Leon muttered.

"When we meet again, Leon," Thanatos said with a knowing look, "it will not be under such pleasant circumstances."

The god of death melted into the ground, disappearing back into the Underworld.

Another man approached, though this time it was a Goth warrior.

Xanthe and Thanas were in no shape to do any negotiating. Thanas was crying in grief. Xanthe seemed like she had been close to Ionna as well. Even after being overwhelmed with a fraction of Thanas' emotions, Leon felt unstable. With a heavy heart, he stepped forward to meet the warrior.

"Who are you?" the Goth asked. "Friend or foe?"

"I don't know," Leon said, meeting his eyes. They were blood red. "What determines a friend versus a foe?"

"Show me your arms then," the Goth said. He showed his. Other than hair, there was nothing there.

Leon obliged, wondering if the Goth was checking if he had something on his forearms. Like the German's arms, there was nothing but hair, sweat and grime.

"Friend, then." The Goth extended his hand to shake. "I'm Baduila, king of the Ostrogoths, and son of Ares."

With his big frame and battle-hardened features, Leon could believe it.

"I'm Leon," the son of Zeus introduced. "Zeus' son."

"The girl there," Baduila said, pointing at Ionna. "I saw her weeks ago when we were planning an attack on Rome. Is she—?"

"Dead," Leon confirmed. "A child of Athena."

Baduila nodded. "Following the Mark?"

Leon eyed him carefully. "How did you know?"

"There are a few things I am aware of despite my odd heritage," the Gothic king smirked. "I don't suppose that was Thanatos, the death god, just now, was it?"

Leon nodded.

"I see..."

Baduila looked around at his men. They were waiting at the edges, as if looking for a signal. He made a gesture, and the warriors backed off. It looked like they were gathering for an ambush. Leon remembered seeing a few Roman troops at the southern end of the city. Xanthe had led them quite far north.

"My men are on edge," Baduila explained. He gestured toward the southern walls in the distance. "The Romans have pulled back past the walls, but I fully expect a counterattack in the night. Three kids running into our side of the city... I wanted to be sure this was not a trap."

Leon nodded. He could see how Romans coming in from the south would seem like a potential trap.

"A pity about the girl," Baduila sighed sadly. He produced a golden drachma, an ancient Greek coin. "If you go to the Baths of Diocletian, my men have allowed the aqueduct to flow for just one night. There the girl should be able to summon pegasi with the help of Iris. Return to the homeland and give the girl proper burial rights. You must head to Athens. Find the Property of the Gods. There, you will find the answers you seek. They helped me when I was lost."

Leon took the golden drachma. He eyed the son of Ares with suspicion.

"The old stories say that whenever Achilles wasn't fighting in battle he was sleeping," Baduila said, staring into the sunset. "A mighty warrior like Achilles was human, after all. And for a grueling, nine-year war, rest was necessary to get up and to keep fighting the next day. This battle against our true enemy, the ones who speak Latin, is far from over. If the reports I received are right, the Eleventh Legion has been obliterated. That leaves only the Twelfth, Thirteenth and Fourteenth. An earlier king of ours, Vitiges, destroyed a large portion of the Twelfth Legion. It is only a matter of time before they march on Rome, to take back what is theirs. But this is my fight. You must rest and prepare to fight the eastern battle, my Greco-Roman friend."

The son of Zeus straightened. "That was us. _We_ destroyed the Eleventh Legion."

Baduila looked amused, but he nodded. "And if that is so, you will be needed to fight in the east. Leave Rome to me. I will help destroy the true Romans once and for all."

Leon remembered Chiron's strict refusal of their request to fight with Percy. Chiron had explicitly told them that they would defend and protect Greek demigods in the homeland. Thanas had argued their case, pointing out Ionna's quest, but Chiron would have none of it. It was then that he realized why Chiron wanted them to stay ignorant.

This battle, in which Leon had only been a part of for weeks, was much bigger than just them. He realized what Percy had said was true. The battle between Greeks and Romans spanned centuries and dozens of generations of demigods and legacies. Their minds would be scarred and twisted from the horrors they would endure. Leon could hardly believe that a Gothic king was a Greek demigod. But somewhere in his heart, he knew it was true.

He thought of Thanas' most treasured memories with Ionna, released in the explosion of anguish.

Fighting against a drakon when they were thirteen. Endless nights planning attacks and raids. Their first attack on a Roman scouting unit when they were fourteen. Training and camping out alone together at fifteen. He could see Thanas' growing affection for the daughter of Athena. Their first kiss together. His proposal to her.

Leon remembered the merciless killing of Sophia. Dozens of javelins hurled at a single target. He could hardly bear to watch as she was pinned to the hillside, her body disfigured and broken. Only after Chiron sped off did his fatigue allow him to close his eyes.

He clenched his jaw and gave the Ostrogoth warrior a curt nod. "Very well. We will return to our homeland and leave the fate of the Twelfth Legion in your hands."

"Take this." Baduila beckoned for one of his men, who brought out a clean cloth. "A shroud for the girl."

Leon took it. "Thank you."

"Good luck, cousin."

Baduila saluted and walked off, bringing his troops with him.

Both Xanthe and Thanas were still kneeling by Ionna's body. Leon felt his chest tighten as he looked at Ionna's dead body. But, for now, he had to be their anchor. He had the least connection to the girl. He needed to lead them away to safety.

He moved to the opposite side of her body and slowly took a knee. Thanas and Xanthe both looked at him. Thanas' eyes were bloodshot, and Xanthe's were puffy. He held their gazes with the strongest look he could muster up.

"Let's give her the proper burial rights. She deserves at least that. Let's bring Ionna home."

* * *

**Hey everyone,**

**I know it's been two weeks, but I've been caught up with stuff (unfortunately gaming has been one of them lol) and have barely progressed in writing the future chapters. Still, I thought I'd get this out to you guys and deal with the consequences later haha. Enjoy! Or not. I don't really care. It's up to you, as readers.**

**Thanks,**

**Sharky**


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

He sat in the rubble and stared at the sleeping form next to him.

It wasn't Thanas. Thanas was a lot paler. He was taller, and the bulk of his muscular definition was in his upper body and shoulders. And he most definitely did not have long hair.

Someone had moved him while he was asleep. He was in Ostia now instead of Rome. He wasn't even sure if his lookout shift had finished when he passed out.

The figure on the floor suddenly woke up, pushing herself up and stretching. She blinked a few times, noticing that she wasn't in the same place she'd fallen asleep in. When her eyes landed on him, his breath caught in his throat.

It was the person he feared it would be: Zoë.

Percy's relationship with Zoë had always been complicated.

The first time he met her, he was standing within fifty Roman pedes of the Titan Atlas. Atlas had cursed her for betraying him and her sisters and revoked her immortality. Surely one of the gods would have found her had he not… in fact, he _knew_ one of the gods would have found her.

But it was perhaps because he _did_ run into Zoë that all this was happening to him. Had he never met her he likely wouldn't have gone to Olympus. He never would have received Aegis. He would have fallen in love and married. He would have had children and lived a peaceful live. Or he would have continued adventuring and died a lonely death. He would never have become the tutor of Achilles, a hero of the Trojan War. And most of all, he never would have become the demon he was now.

Thinking about it, it was all Apollo's fault. Or Artemis'. He couldn't remember who was behind sending him his first dream. He remembered the Fates about to rip his mind to pieces, and perhaps that was what ingrained that memory so deeply. His first memory about Zoë.

The Twin Archers had created the most dangerous demigod to ever live. If Heracles was the strongest demigod, if Achilles was Greece's greatest warrior, and Jason the hero of the Argonauts and conqueror of the Sea of Monsters, or even Perseus the slayer of Medusa, or Odysseus being the wittiest Greek hero... then he truly was Perseus, the destroyer of kingdoms.

Never before had a demigod been the cause of tens of thousands of deaths by his sword and bow.

And not even the girl he had loved could stop him.

He wasn't sure if they were meant to fall in love. But they had, even though they had both agreed to start the Hunters of Artemis. _That_ was probably what made the relationship so complicated. The whole point was to find girls who scorned men, hated them. He'd neglected the fact that he himself was a man. In the end, it didn't seem like _all_ the Hunters hated _all_ men anyway. Hippolytus, one of Theseus' sons, gave up love in order to join the Hunt.

But Zoë was the only Hunter he knew who had actively loved someone while in the Hunt.

"Hi," he said quietly.

Zoë stared at him like he was a ghost. "You..."

"No, I have no idea why I'm here," he told her. He gestured over his shoulder to the exit. "Shall we talk and walk?"

The two of them got up and left, walking side-by-side, leaving over an arm's length of distance between them.

"So what are you doing in Ostia?" Percy asked.

"I have no idea either," Zoë admitted with a sigh. "I was sleeping and, suddenly, when I woke, you were lying there next to me."

He shrugged. "I guess it just turned out that way."

"Sure."

As for their relationship after the fall of Western Rome… that wasn't going well.

Rome was just a day or less inland from where they stood. It was desolate, at least in comparison to what it had once been. There were still a few tribes here and there, and not all the Romans had died. Survivors had become slaves themselves. A city that had once supported the lives of a million souls had dwindled down to the thousands, as it had been during the times of the Kingdom.

Much of its riches and monuments had been pillaged or destroyed. The Forum, which was once the headquarters for the Senate and the center of Roman power, had been all but reduced to rubble in these Gothic Wars.

It wasn't uncommon to see stragglers or criminals roaming the streets of Rome. After all, there was no longer any central government and no army to follow through with those orders. Percy wondered how things were over in the Eastern Empire. While he should have been ecstatic that the east still remained with the power base in the Hellenic provinces and Asia Minor, it was still difficult to manage the installation of Christian leaders that dominated the east. That was perhaps the most important reason for why East Rome still stood. He'd united the Eastern Roman Empire and diluted the Western Empire. And the barbarians saw Western Rome as the easier target.

Once Constantine made Constantinople his capital, Rome was no longer the most defensible city in the two Empires. Rome's older Aurelian Walls were no match for the newfound strength of the barbarians, whereas the Theodosian Walls of Constantinople, in addition to being along the strait where the Symplegades had once clashed, made the city extremely difficult to capture.

"Look, the Temple of Venus," Percy said as they passed a ruined structure. "There's a woman standing there."

Zoë turned to look. She frowned. "Isn't that…?"

The woman looked up. Percy recognized her instantly.

She was beautiful beyond doubt. Her eyes continuously changed colour. So did her hair. In fact, her whole appearance continued changing, slowly becoming prettier and prettier. It was Venus herself.

"I want no part of this," Zoë said stiffly before turning to walk away.

Before she could, there was an explosion of smoke in front of them. Appearing was none other than the aforementioned goddess. She was wearing battle armour, like she was ready to fight. She kept the spear in her hand and the helmet on her head, despite what it could have done to mess up her hair. Zoë was forced to halt in her tracks, scowling at the goddess of love.

"Hello, Venus," Percy greeted cautiously.

The goddess waved him off. "I'm Aphrodite."

Percy glanced behind him at the ruins of the Temple of _Venus_.

"Oh, don't be suspicious just because I'm wearing battle armour," the goddess sighed. "I _am_ the mother of Eros. And that rascal _loves_ to shoot people."

"That's true..." Percy muttered, remembering the last time he met the god.

"And for what reason did you want to speak to us?" Zoë asked carefully.

Aphrodite stared at Zoë curiously for a dozen seconds. "The Huntress mistrusts me and believes I have ill intent. May I ask, Zoë Nightshade, where this bias comes from? Does it, by any chance, come from Artemis' lectures on the threats of love? Isn't that ironic? You yourself still love, do you not?"

Zoë glared at the goddess and set her jaw. "Those feelings have long dissipated."

Percy thought he saw a flicker of worry in the goddess' eyes, but Aphrodite masked it with an artificial smile.

"Oh, dear." Aphrodite fabricated a look of pity, as if she was trying to persuade Zoë. "You hardly even know yourself."

Zoë just kept glaring. She didn't say a word.

"But, alas, that is not why I have summoned you here today," Aphrodite sighed.

"Summoned us?" Percy was confused. She was the one that appeared in front of them.

"Of course," Aphrodite nodded. "Why else would two people who hold such distaste for one another, who have not seen each other in five hundred years and left on a bad note, wake up together?"

Percy and Zoë shared a quick glance. _Uh-oh_, he thought.

"In any case," the goddess continued, "I have a favour to ask of you. I know you might wonder what stupid quest the goddess of love has planned for you, but this is urgent. As you can see behind you, my temple has been utterly destroyed. The good news is that the Romans predicted this and sent the cargo to Constantinople. The bad news is that it was ransacked by one of the last remaining pirates in existence, Chrysaor."

"I've heard that name before," Zoë muttered.

"He is the brother of Pegasus," Aphrodite explained. "He was once a devilishly kind man. He wielded a golden sword, the first golden sword, of which he gifted his first version to the Trojans… the sword you call the Sword of Troy. But after the Trojan War, Chrysaor decided that the heroes of Achaea were no longer worthy. He crafted a new sword from what was then called Enchanted gold in Ausonia and turned against mortals, becoming a pirate. He ransacked the convoy that was carrying my jewels. I want you two to find my jewels: pearls, gold, jade, sapphire and silver. You will know them when you see them."

"Why ask the both of us?" Zoë questioned. She glanced over at Percy. "If Chrysaor is a pirate, why can't he go alone?"

Aphrodite gave him a sad smile. "He cannot, Zoë. If he could, I would have chosen him alone."

"I can't?"

"That is something for me to decide and you to follow," the goddess said with a sigh. She looked up into the sky. "Normally Zeus would send me a warning for talking to you for so long. Alas, he cannot right now. The war is stirring, and with the obliteration of the Eleventh Legion, he's not in the best of moods." She turned back to face them. "It is time for you to choose your path, Percy. You forgave me a thousand years ago. Will you forgive Apollo? Or will you continue down this path until you are no longer human?"

Percy stared at Aphrodite. The goddess wasn't all that scary. She was smiling, and as always looked elegant. But her tone was serious. She truly meant it. This was the true Aphrodite, the one who cared about more than just looks and makeup. The one who wanted everything to work out in the end. Her words sounded exactly like those of Chiron, who had warned him so long ago to stop with all the killing.

Percy knew it was impossible. All of his hunting skills and been transferred to hunting humans. There was no way he couldn't do that anymore. He knew, deep down, that they wanted him to stop tearing things down. They wanted to show him that he didn't need to be a destroyer. They wanted to show him that he didn't need to control everything anymore. That it was time for a new era—an era of growth and prosperity.

He had a feeling that the whole point of the quest was to help him realize that truth, and Zoë was there to help.

"I'll take on your quest, Aphrodite," he said. "But I won't promise you anything."

The goddess sighed again. "Very well. Good luck, Percy. Zoë." The goddess bowed before snapping her fingers and disappearing.

Percy glanced at Zoë.

She immediately crossed her arms and shook her head. "I don't want to do anything for that goddess."

"Why not?" he asked with a frown. "Don't tell me you actually believe Artemis."

Zoë scowled. "I don't trust her intentions. I don't care if she's already held back and kept us apart all these centuries. I am a Hunter of Artemis. The reason why I dislike Aphrodite should be self-explanatory, Percy. And it is insulting that you would speak of Lady Artemis that way."

He closed his eyes and let out a loud sigh. "Okay, maybe I phrased that wrong, but you know what I mean. Artemis holds grudges. You can't deny that she's biased. But Aphrodite is technically under my debt. She felt guilty for doing what she did to me before Mycenaean Greece fell, and I forgave her. There was an unspoken agreement… we both know that my forgiveness came with the condition that I am not to be bothered. And by affiliation, that means you are free from Aphrodite's influence too."

Zoë stared at him for another few seconds. She'd been doing that often lately. "You were meticulous, weren't you?"

Percy knew what she meant. He looked away and nodded. "I can't travel with the snap of my fingers. Of course, my plans could go awry if one part of my plan went wrong. So I waited in the shadows, built Rome up on pillars of sand, ready at any moment to make it all crumble to the ground. If I chose so, I could have ended Rome with Caesar. But I believed in him. When he went back on his word... would I just let him order the wholesale slaughter of Greeks? _Everything_ I did was to make the Greeks have a better future."

"Your methodology was all wrong," Zoë said bluntly.

"You only say that because you hate to see what I've become," he argued back. "If you went through what I went through, you would understand why I acted the way I did. I needed to do whatever it took to achieve my goals."

Zoë gave him a pained look. "And you realize that it's only because it was _you_ that you aren't dead, right? If it hadn't been you, but someone who wasn't backed by Athena, the gods would have smote you. Because despite everything you did, Athena backed you. Even as a Greek goddess, she supported your containment strategy of the Romans. Now… now that things are more balanced, if the gods catch you, you will be punished. Only Apollo and Ares hated you. Now many of the others will join them if you continue down this path."

Percy fought back a smirk. _That's what you think_, he thought.

"I need to get back to Thanas, Xanthe and Leon."

She paused for a moment. Then, she pointed toward the harbour. "Later. Let's go find Aphrodite's jewels first to get her off our back. She didn't say explicitly but I have a feeling she will give us useful information, particularly on the whereabouts of my Hunters."

He was surprised. He didn't expect her to give in and join him on the quest. He fully expected her to leave, and he was fully willing to go on his own even if it meant his end. After all, it was what everyone seemed to want… right?

As she passed by his ear, Zoë whispered, "If I hadn't fallen in love with you, I wouldn't have made that promise when you were exiled to protect you… to keep you alive at any cost. Trust me, Percy. I know what you saw. Because I took leave from the Hunters to follow you across the world. I know what you saw…"

Her dark eyes seemed even more piercing than usual.

"I _saw_ what you saw."

* * *

**I have made next to no progress in the past month lol. I didn't even proofread this before posting. Damn, I forgot how hard it was to finish a story. I'm gonna keep trying. I just need to figure out how to not jump straight to the ending, because that's what I really want to get to, except it'll be super abrupt and everything if I don't at least show how they get there.**

**Just keep writing. Just keep writing. Just keep writing, writing, writing...**


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Zoë had vomited when she returned.

By then, she couldn't take it anymore. She had wanted to get back to what she was used to: the forests and hills of the Hellenic peninsula. No more of the desert heat. No more of the arctic cold. It was a mistake following Percy. If someone like him couldn't stand the horrors of the land beyond the gods, how was she supposed to?

It wasn't like the last time when they were searching for the manticore and the gorgons. That last time they'd had each other. They'd endured together, and she'd fallen in love with him.

That was no longer an option. She had made a vow to Artemis, and other than her pre-existing feelings, she could not afford to feel any affection for Percy.

So why, in Artemis' name, did she decide to follow him east?

"Zoë!" Phoebe called out, grabbing her. Phoebe turned and shouted. "Zoë's back!"

A handful of Hunters rushed into action, immediately caring for her. She recognized two of them: Aikaterine and Helene. The other three were new faces. They laid her down in a tent, cleaned her mouth and began to wash her grimy face. Zoë was too exhausted to argue against their unnecessary care.

"Oh, thank Artemis you're fine," Phoebe said. The others got up to fetch food and water. "I thought you died when Artemis left."

Zoë blinked and pushed herself up until she was sitting upright. "Artemis left?"

"Diana," Phoebe clarified. "Her Roman form. She doesn't affiliate as much with us in that form. She's been back a couple of times as Artemis, but she's been away a lot. I always thought that you were the last thing that kept her Greek. When you fled because of Percy… Artemis was distraught."

Zoë chuckled, noting her foolishness. "I can imagine how poor of a model I must be as lieutenant."

Phoebe grinned. "Not _that_ bad. The ones who have remained since you left haven't spoken poorly of you. I assure it. You were out fulfilling an obligation… an obligation I assume has been completed?"

The daughter of Atlas stared at her palms. The image of the burning village flashed in her mind, and she shuddered. "It has… but at a cost far greater than anticipated."

Her second-in-command shot her a worried look. "Did you injure yourself badly?"

Zoë shook her head solemnly and began telling the stories of what she saw, although omitting the gruesome details. She explained how she followed Percy through the mountains, how it reminded her of her old days as a Hesperide, and the centuries of death and destruction they had been through. In a way, she had lost her sanity.

"That's horrifying," Phoebe gasped. She looked repulsed. "How could someone watch those things for decades and not go insane?"

Zoë shook her head. "I don't know, Phoebe. I truly do not know. All I know is that thinking about Percy was the one thing that kept me rooted. Without him… I'm not sure if I would have made it."

Phoebe went quiet. "Does that mean… you truly love the son of Poseidon?"

Zoë shrugged and laughed humourlessly. "Can I really say that? Sure, I sacrificed myself for him. Sure, he was what kept me human. But at the same time, if I had a chance of doing it over, I never would have left. I would rather have stayed with my sisters. I would rather have never experienced the horrors of the land beyond the gods."

Phoebe nodded. "I see… Then what about him? Were you his root?"

Zoë felt her heart drop and sink in her chest. _That_ had been the thing she'd neglected… that she'd forgotten.

"Zoë?" Phoebe gave her a concerned look.

Swallowing heavily, she muttered, "I… I never presented myself to him. He didn't know I followed him."

Both of them immediately knew what that meant. Percy had thought he had gone through all that himself. There was no doubt in her mind that he was not in the right mindset. If he acted like she thought he would…

"Let's find him," Zoë decided. "Just us two."

Her mistake had been finding him when he apologized to Aphrodite. Zoë had stupidly deemed that he was fine. She couldn't think of the unmistakable destruction he would come to commit. She always knew he was powerful. But she never thought he would use his power for murder and assassination.

Phoebe had warned her. Phoebe began to stop trusting Percy.

It was Zoë's mistake.

Because she couldn't come to terms that a boy, who was so courageous and bold, who stood for ethics and fought for good, who was a hero to all, could become something as demonic as the killing machine she knew him as today.

As she stared at him from across the boat, he didn't come across as a murderer. He seemed rather peaceful, rowing the ship with his freaky Poseidon powers and keeping them sailing south through the Tyrrhenian Sea. His lips were tight with concentration, however, and his eyes looked far across the horizon, as if wistful or sad. It had been a long time since she had gotten to stare at him like this. He was handsome; she couldn't deny that. But, more so, he looked normal. He looked like any random man she would run into on the streets.

But Zoë knew that his morals and everything he'd come to stand for were compromised when he was exiled. Not even her presence could save him. After all, in front of her, he'd led the assassination of Julius Caesar. In front of her, he'd revelled in the burning fire of Rome under Nero. Now, he had taken three demigods under his wing to destroy the last true legions of Rome. They'd succeeded in taking out the Eleventh. It was only a matter of time before the Trio would find the Thirteenth and Fourteenth. She hoped Irene was close to finding the scattered Hunters.

"So who's Chrysaor?" Percy asked suddenly.

Zoë recollected her thoughts. "I don't know much about him, but I've definitely heard his name before. Unfortunately, being Pegasus' brother isn't exactly good for fame. He dresses in all gold. I know that. He's referred to as the Golden Sword because of… well, his golden sword. If I recall correctly, some have boasted that he is a better combatant than Ares, perhaps. Despite Ares' cowardice, defeating Ares in one-on-one combat is near impossible, even for the gods. Of course, this is assuming a spear-on-spear or sword-on-sword battle. Not lightning bolt-on-sword. He runs with a crew of dolphin-men… the remnants of the crew that kidnapped Dionysus. I think Artemis said that once caught, no one could survive Chrysaor's wrath."

"Right," Percy muttered. "So that means his mother is… Medusa? Wow, great mom."

"She was a mortal once, like any mother of a demigod hero," Zoë pointed out.

His expression softened a touch. "I know. I wonder what my mom would've been like if she hadn't died."

"I'm sure she would be disappointed in what you have become," Zoë said.

He glared at her. "I wouldn't be in this mess if she hadn't died. The Romans may have risen, but I wouldn't be alive to see Apollo's rise and Ares' dominance. I wouldn't have been exiled to lands far off, and I wouldn't have had to suffer for hundreds of years."

She swallowed her anger. "Perhaps not, but the choices you have made shows exactly what kind of person you are."

Percy didn't drop his glare, but he said nothing.

Zoë wanted to believe that, somewhere in there, a kind, selfless soul existed. Centuries of hurt and pain had marred it, distorting it into a figure of hatred and fury. Zoë believed Percy had the ability to control his fatal flaw and use it for good. But she hadn't seen evidence of that yet, and as more and more time passed, her faith in him dwindled.

Over a thousand years as a Hunter had changed her too. She wasn't the same as she once was. Her feelings for Percy were a thing of the past... like an old memory she could look back upon fondly. Increasingly, she began to believe that there was a reason why she had become a Hunter despite their mutual attraction. Perhaps they were not meant to be, that their fates were not as intertwined as she once thought. She wondered if Irene was wired the opposite way.

But, for now, she was off on this stupid adventure with this stupid son of Poseidon.

"Why don't you rest first?" Percy said softly. His eyes glowed in the night. They looked nothing like the poison she saw five hundred years ago when he watched Brutus stab Caesar. "It looks like you need it."

She nodded. Her eyes felt heavy.

Going below deck, she found a comfortable spot in one of the rooms and fell into the land of dreams.

She was sitting in a chair inside the kitchen of a home. It was an ancient-style home, like the buildings they had back in Mycenaean times… like the buildings they had when she became mortal and Percy was still mortal. She felt old and frail while several young children played around her.

"Mother!" a voice called, and a middle-aged man stepped into the living space. He smiled and said, "Dinner's ready."

For a moment, Zoë had to do a double-take. The man looked almost like an exact replica of her: the same black eyes, dark hair and coppery skin. There was no doubt in her mind; this was what her child could have looked like had she decided to have one.

"Where's your sister?" another haggard voice barked from the kitchen. "Is she back yet?"

"I'm back now!" a woman shouted, running through the doorway. She had sea-green eyes and jet-black-hair. If the man was an exact replica of her, the woman was an exact replica of Percy. And if she was the man's sister…

Zoë pushed herself up onto her feet.

The dream-world spun, and suddenly she was alone with Percy. They were young again, perhaps twenty-five, and alone in the household.

"I'm glad I decided to rebuild this place," Percy said, grabbing her hands. "It's perfect for us."

Somehow, she knew what to say. "You grew up here, Percy. Your family has lived on these grounds for generations. It seems only right to continue the trend."

"Except we're not farmers," Percy chuckled.

Zoë laughed. She held him close. "We definitely aren't farmers."

Percy embraced her in a warm hug. "I love you, Zoë."

A lone tear fell down her cheek as she realized what this was a dream of. "I love you, too, Percy."

The scene shifted again, and reality set in. This time she was standing in front of a burial shroud. A cold, empty darkness gripped her heart as she watched. The intricate blue and green design gave away the identity of the body wrapped up inside. A beautiful, embroidered trident was engulfed in fire as the shroud was burned. Zoë was wearing Hunter attire.

A final scene change…

"How could you?" she was yelling. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed. "You... you killed...!"

A word came out of her mouth, but she couldn't hear it.

It was raining, and the sky felt like a coffin's lid, slowly suffocating them.

Percy was standing across from her, blood stained on Anaklusmos. With a cold look, he growled, "If you hadn't intervened, I wouldn't have had to do it."

Thunder shook the world.

"Every time we meet, someone dies," she found herself saying. "You can't seem to hold it in, can you? All you can think about nowadays is killing. Killing. Murdering. Slaughtering."

He clenched his teeth. "So do you think I'm going to sit back and let them attack my kind? I get it. You're not from Greece. You're not of the same species. You're a nymph. You were meant to be a guardian of a garden for your entire existence."

"When you promised me you wouldn't break your oath, this isn't what I meant as a means to express your anger and fury!" The wind grew stronger. "I followed you into those forsaken lands and nearly died because of it."

"No one asked you to follow me!" Percy stepped closer, raising his blade to her shoulder. He sneered, and she could see the contempt in his eyes. "You don't seem to understand how I feel! Just because you have a family, doesn't mean that all is right in the world. The gods are unjust. I was exiled for nothing!"

"Since when did life become all about you?" she spat back.

He pushed her roughly with his hand. She stumbled back, surprised at his nerve. He stabbed Anaklusmos into the ground, and the world began to tremble. Percy looked up at her, his eyes filled with unwavering hate.

"Goodbye, Zoë."

* * *

Zoë stood guard sometime in the night. Percy hadn't kept track of exactly when.

When he'd gone to wake her up, he noticed that she had been crying. He could see her red cheeks and puffy eyes. She muttered something like 'eternal lovers'. Percy almost smiled at the reference. It was back in Persia when they were hunting, or had just finished hunting, the gorgons. They had been talking about being the eternal siblings when Zoë mentioned the term 'eternal lovers'.

That was the night they'd first kissed.

Then she scowled and mumbled 'I hate you.'

He couldn't be sure, but he had the feeling she was referring to him. He shook his head, returning to his duties and waking her up. It was his turn to rest.

He didn't dream of anything when he slept.

But when he woke up, he felt an unnatural presence. Almost as if a ship had pulled up to their starboard side.

Percy shot up from his spot on the floor and was immediately met with a strong punch from what looked like a dolphin. He collapsed back to the ground. Two pairs of strong arms grabbed him and moved him up to the top of the deck. He let out a grunt as they threw him hard to the deck.

Glancing up, he saw Zoë at sword-point and dazed near the bow of the ship.

He growled in frustration and turned his attention up toward the golden boy standing in front of him.

Chrysaor was dressed in Greek combat armor—sandals, kilt, and greaves, a breastplate decorated with elaborate sea monster designs—and everything he wore was gold. Even his sword, a Greek blade like Anaklusmos, was gold instead of bronze.

What really intrigued Percy was the guy's helmet. His visor was a full face mask fashioned like a gorgon's head—curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face. Percy had met gorgons before. The likeness was good—fitting of a son of Medusa.

"Hello, brother." The golden warrior's voice was rich and velvety, with an exotic accent—Persian perhaps. "What brings you out to sea on this fine evening?"

Percy concentrated on the sea. He could feel the waves bending to Chrysaor's control. Never before had he run into a son of Poseidon who could control the sea as he could. He was rather impressed.

Chrysaor's lips curled in distaste. Percy figured the golden boy could see his expression. "You think you're so famous. _I_ was the first to ever wield an enchanted gold blade. I should have been the most famous hero of all time! But the legend-tellers decided to ignore me, so I decided to become a villain instead. As the son of Medusa, I would inspire terror. As the son of Poseidon, I would rule the seas!"

"You became a pirate, huh?" Percy nodded, impressed. "You should've tried capturing Julius Caesar. Now that would've been a sight to behold." Then he focused. "But, um, I heard a different story."

"A different story?" Chrysaor watched him with interest. "And what would that be?"

Percy analyzed Chrysaor's stance. He was relaxed but his feet were shoulder-width apart and his knees were slightly bent. He was ready for combat at the slightest provocation. "Well, Aphrodite said that you gave away your first golden sword to the Trojans and initially liked humans. But then you turned against them and became the pirate you are today."

Chrysaor chuckled. "Of course Aphrodite would twist the story that way. No, I never gave the Trojans my sword. It was stolen from me by Apollo, who gave it as a gift to the Trojans to gain favour." The pirate growled. "And the Trojans have built this massive empire… Is it not natural that I wish to pirate these seas and capture the riches of the gods? Regardless, do we not share the same enemy? After all, I heard you were the one to destroy Rome."

"That story isn't entirely true," Percy said with a shrug. "I helped destroy _Western_ Rome. But, alas, that's not what I'm here for."

Chrysaor nodded and stabbed his sword into the deck of the ship. Leaning on it, he said, "I expected as much. So what for then?"

"Well, as you might expect, Aphrodite wanted me to get her jewels back. I heard you stole them from a convoy headed to Constantinople."

The pirate nodded. "Of course. Lots of precious jewels. Why wouldn't I want to take them?"

"So, I know you won't give them back, but why don't we make a trade?"

He narrowed his eyes. "What trade?"

Percy glanced at the two dolphin warriors holding him. "If you have them let go, I can show you."

Chrysaor nodded at his dolphin warriors, but Percy could tell they were still holding their weapons at him, ready to attack at a moment's notice. He was glad that Chrysaor wasn't underestimating him. He hadn't had a nice fight since he destroyed the Thirtieth Legion. Reaching into the Infinity Pouch, he produced the Sword of Troy… or as it should have been known as: the Sword of Chrysaor.

The Golden Warrior's eyes bulged. He pointed at the sword as if he couldn't believe what he was looking at. "Where… where did you get that?"

"Of all the information you have about me, I'm surprised you never figured out about this one," Percy admitted. He stowed the sword back into the pouch. "I took it from Aeneas as he settled down in Ausonia."

Chrysaor had a hungry glint in his eyes. His eyes stared calculatingly at the bag. "So you want to trade the sword for Aphrodite's jewels?"

Percy glanced at Zoë. "And our safe passage to Constantinople."

"Safe passage," Chrysaor murmured. He blinked and seemed to come to his senses. With a scowl, he said, "It's the jewels and _your_ safe passage, brother. That is as far as I'll go."

Percy didn't expect his first try to work, but he couldn't help but feel disappointed that Chrysaor hadn't fallen for the bait. He looked at Zoë. "What's wrong with _her_ safe passage?"

"You didn't expect me to have found your ship without needing something from it, did you?" the son of Medusa chuckled. He'd recovered from his shock quicker than Percy had anticipated. "There are these Frankish scouts. They've been chasing this Hunter ever since she set fire to their village and killed the Village Elder and the Chief's wife. They want her."

Percy gave Zoë a surprised look. That was the first he'd heard of that.

"What will it be, brother?" Chrysaor asked, as if he was in an advantageous position. "Will you sacrifice the girl to continue on? Or will you die the death you've been longing for?"

Percy didn't stop staring at Zoë. She'd begun to catch on to the conversation, awakening from her dazed state earlier. She blinked hard, her eyes screaming at him to leave her and get Aphrodite's jewels. He was tempted to do so. He didn't doubt Zoë's ability to fight. But against this whole crew of dolphin warriors? She would definitely be caught and executed by those Frankish scouts.

Chrysaor smiled. He still seemed to believe that he had control over the situation.

"I think you're forgetting one thing, golden boy," Percy said.

Chrysaor's smile faulted. "And what would that be?"

"I'm a son of Poseidon, too."

Percy began concentrating on the power of the sea. He felt the wind pick up around him. Power flowed through his veins as he began to charge up his power. Even if Chrysaor was holding the sea around them, it didn't mean Percy couldn't use it too.

"Ha!" Chrysaor barked in laughter. "I was born when the first Perseus slew my mother. I am your senior. Do you seriously think you have a chance against me?"

Percy smirked. "I think you're forgetting another thing, _brother_."

The golden boy's confidence dissipated as the ocean around the boat rose like a ring, surrounding them like an enormous wave. Chrysaor scrunched his face in concentration, but he couldn't stop the water from rising. Soon, he panicked.

"What… what is this?" he exclaimed in horror.

"You see, even if I haven't been patrolling the seas for the past millennium," Percy explained as he controlled the water, "learning how to control my powers when I was far from the ocean did wonders. I don't suppose you've ever summoned a tidal wave, Chrysaor? You must have heard of Trajan's Thirtieth. I drowned them all."

Chrysaor's eyes narrowed. He drew his sword. "Then we'll settle this the old way, Percy. With swords."

Percy smirked and let the water fall. The boat surged up on the ensuing wave. He unclipped Anaklusmos and let the sword spring to life. "Let's party."

* * *

Zoë almost forgot why he was able to survive alone in the land beyond the gods. Percy's combat skills had nothing to do with his ability to wield a sword. Yes, he was good with a blade, but his athleticism, his mind, and his raw power only made him even stronger.

Chrysaor was a brilliant swordsman. He moved quicker than any swordsman she had seen before. She believed that he was almost as good, or perhaps better, than Ares. But not even he was prepared to fight someone like Percy.

The thing was… Chrysaor meant to scare his opponents with his gorgon mask. He was lightning-fast, and in the middle of the ocean, the all-gold armour made him seem like he truly was an all-powerful being that was impossible to defeat. He used his power to control the seas around them, causing fog to roll in and create an eerie atmosphere.

That didn't work on Percy.

And as fast as Chrysaor was, Percy was too powerful. His eyes gleamed like balls of poison, and the fog around him turned into storms. A miniature storm collected around him, swirling and crackling with lightning. The eerie atmosphere that Chrysaor had so delicately created was replaced by a massive squall. The water underneath the boat thrashed wildly, causing chaos and panic amongst the dolphin warriors.

Percy lunged forward and slashed through the air where Chrysaor had been standing just a moment prior. They battled back and forth, thrusting and parrying.

The only difference was that Chrysaor's brow was breaking into a sweat. Percy looked like he was enjoying the fight.

Zoë could only imagine what Percy would've looked like when he was destroying the Roman legions. It couldn't have looked pretty. Zoë almost wanted him to stop fighting the way he was and just let Chrysaor go, but she knew how pirates worked. If Percy didn't beat him into submission, she doubted they would get what they wanted.

Percy slashed up and almost cut through Chrysaor's mask. Chrysaor rolled backwards to catch his breath, but Percy kept pushing forward. He aimed a push kick and connected right through the chest. Chrysaor flew back onto his own boat, his sword clattering to the deck. Percy leaped over the railing, chasing after him, and a bunch of the dolphin warriors chattered in worry. They jumped back over to their boat to get a closer look.

The two dolphin warriors above her glanced at each other and lowered their weapons. They moved to the edge of the boat to grab a closer look. Zoë took the opportunity to slowly stand up and sneak over to the other ship. The dolphin warriors seemed too distracted to stop her.

Creeping down below the top deck of Chrysaor's ship, she went to search for the jewels. Pearls, gold, jade, sapphire and silver were on the list if she recalled correctly.

When she got to the treasury, she was overwhelmed by the amount of loot Chrysaor had managed to accrue. Most of the loot was trades goods. A large portion of it was composed of Roman goods that had been looted by the Goths from big Roman cities like Rome, Ravenna, Cumae and those kinds of places. There were small stashes of currency randomly scattered around the room.

Everything a person could think of stealing from cargo ships was in here, including silk from the Far East.

It wasn't long before she found Aphrodite's jewels. They were in a plain wooden box, perhaps to mask the inner contents. It had been placed at the back of the room. Clearly, Chrysaor had prioritized keeping the jewels safe. From what she gathered, Chrysaor didn't seem like the type to be ignorant of what he was taking.

She yelped as the boat shuddered, knocking her off balance. The boat leaned starboard, and Zoë began to slide against the wooden planks. With a loud thud, she crashed into the wall.

She quickly picked herself back up and began to surge toward the exit. They needed to get out of here… fast. There was no doubt that soon the dolphin warriors would come to the aid of their captain and swarm Percy. He could only fight for so long before tiring. She could feel the tension of the sea as the sons of Poseidon wrestled for control.

Just as she reached the bottom of the steps, a handful of dolphin warriors appeared at the top of the stairs, their weapons drawn. She swore she could see the sneers on their snout-like faces. They descended the steps and formed a ring around her. She pulled out one of her daggers for protection, but she knew that it wouldn't suffice if they actually attacked.

"Listen, there are five of you and one of me," Zoë said, trying to buy herself some time. "We don't need to get violent here."

One of the dolphin warriors chattered angrily at her and raised his weapon. As he did so, there was a loud snap as the wood at the back of the boat, and therefore the back of the room, gave way. A hole formed, and ocean water began gushing into the room.

The dolphin warriors glanced back and forth between her and the hole, seemingly wondering what to address first. It seemed they had retained their intelligence in their partial transition from man to dolphin—that was to say, they were quite stupid.

"Hey," she exclaimed, pointing at the box of Aphrodite's jewels. "Do you want to save this tiny box or all the other treasures in this room that are going to be washed away? I'm pretty sure you don't want to spend the next few weeks swimming around the ocean trying to find everything you lost, am I right?"

The dolphin warriors glanced at each other before deciding that she was right. They rushed to block the hole.

Zoë smirked and ascended the steps to the top deck, where Percy was finishing Chrysaor off.

Percy slashed through Chrysaor's mask and kicked him backward, sending him tumbling into the ocean with a scream. Percy quickly snatched Chrysaor's second golden sword and ran toward their boat. Zoë jumped the gap and immediately began firing at the dolphin warriors who were attempting to surround him. As he jumped the gap, he used the waves to flip Chrysaor's boat and capsize it.

"Send us off!" Zoë shouted.

Percy used his last remaining bit of strength and sent their ship hurtling forward into the sea. He turned to look at her and said, "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed.


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"What do you want to talk about?" Zoë sighed for the tenth time. "Both of us have kept things from the other. Does it matter that I attacked the people who killed my Hunters?"

"Well it might've cleared things up if you told me," Percy pointed out. He held out his arm where Chrysaor had cut him. "This might not have happened if _we_ found Chrysaor. But you just _had_ to be wanted by those Frankish scouts. And here I thought we were running away for nothing."

"Yes, because you haven't kept secrets," she growled.

Percy looked away. "That's a different story."

"Excuses," she spat.

He took a deep breath. They'd finished delivering the jewels back to Aphrodite, and she rewarded them with information on the whereabouts of Thanas, Xanthe and Leon. Aphrodite also lifted the veil between Zoë and the Hunters created by Iris on Zeus' orders, providing her with the opportunity to finally contact Phoebe and the others.

"I don't want to fight," he said.

"We don't have to fight if you don't ask about it."

He bit back a retort. It would only make things worse.

He closed his eyes and sighed. Aphrodite had also told him about Ionna's fate. He felt a mixture of emotions. Guilt, sorrow, anger. But it was hardly a surprise. He hoped Thanas didn't take her death too hard.

"You don't have to continue this, you know."

Percy turned to face Zoë. They were taking the cart down to Ostia, which gave them plenty of time to talk, not that either one of them really wanted to do so. She watched him with a stoic expression.

"I honestly don't understand," she continued. "What about Apollo makes you so crazy to destroy an entire civilization?"

"What other reason do I have left to live?" he countered. "If I have to die, I'll bring Apollo down with me. We can enjoy Tartarus together."

"And, in between, thousands of lives must be sacrificed for this cause?"

He sighed. "You'll never be able to understand Zoë. No matter how long we argue, you'll never know how horrible it was for me out there. Even if you were there with me, at least you had something to come back to. You have a family. I've got nothing."

Zoë stared at him carefully, her dark eyes probing and analyzing him. She pursed her lips. "The worst one was the Panchala. It was after that one that I couldn't take it anymore. I fled back home."

Percy looked at the cut on his arm. He recalled the faint memories of the east, small and vague traces of the memories he'd stored away. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bothered to survive out there. I... I went through so much. And for what? Did the gods want me to suffer? Did the gods want me to go insane? Is this Zeus' way of preventing my spirit from ever reaching Elysium? To make me do unspeakable horrors?"

"I... I don't know."

"And yet I can't help but feel angry, feel resentful." He squeezed his fist and flexed his arm, squeezing more blood out from the wound. "Pain is like an afterthought now. If it wasn't for Irene, I probably would've died a long time ago. I don't know whether to thank her or resent her for that. Well... no, I'd thank her. I think."

Zoë looked away from him, a faraway look in her eyes. She looked like she wanted to fly away, teleport like she was one of the gods. She looked like she wanted to do anything but be there with him in that cart. "Irene told me that I was the only one that can stop you from crossing the line. Somehow, I feel like that's not true."

He wiped the trickling blood off his elbow, remembering Irene's words from Troy that seemed so long ago. "What do you mean?"

"I hate what you've become," she said bluntly. "I hate how destructive and hateful you are now. How can I convince you to not destroy the world when I think it's impossible? How can I if I can't believe you're someone capable of compassionate thought?"

Percy found himself staring at Anaklusmos, still strapped to his belt as a rod. "Quite the pep talk you're giving me here. I don't think the whole persuasion thing is working right now. Not with those words."

Zoë nodded in agreement. She stared at him. "Exactly. I... I don't have the heart to strike you down. Perhaps that's a weakness of mine that needs to be corrected. Because I can't find it in me to believe that you'll stop this madness. Because I'm convinced that... that to you this really _isn't_ madness."

His shoulders slumped. This was a depressing conversation.

"I have to stop you, you know," Zoë told him. "If we meet in the future, I'll be there to impede your progress, whatever it is."

"Wow, encouraging," he muttered.

They arrived at the docks in Ostia just before sunset.

Zoë was supposed to take the boat to Apollonia, which wouldn't leave until the morning after. As they climbed out of the cart, he took another long look at her.

"You look beautiful tonight," Percy said.

Zoë stared at him. He couldn't read her expression. "Thank you, Percy," she said stoically. "I guess... you look beautiful too?"

Percy nodded at the awkwardness.

Zoë turned away and began to walk away.

"Hey, wait!" he called out. She stopped and turned. Raising his eyebrows, he asked, "Was that a joke just now? You just called me beautiful. How am I beautiful? Handsome, rugged, charming. All those work. But beautiful?"

A trace of a smile flickered across Zoë's lips. "You've lost your touch, Percy. I pray we don't run into each other again in darker circumstances."

She, once again, turned and began to walk away. Percy didn't stop her this time. He just smiled at her retreating figure.

"You're still awesome." He knew she couldn't hear him anymore, but he just felt like saying it out loud. "But you're right. The next time we meet, I have a feeling it won't be under such happy circumstances."

Then Percy turned around and went for the boat to Athens.

* * *

Zoë was relieved to see Phoebe, even if it was through an Iris-message.

"You're safe!" Phoebe exclaimed. She glanced over her right shoulder where Irene was loitering in the background, staring at the Iris-message. "Irene works fast. She managed to track us down with our wolf. The one that went missing, presumably, with you."

"How did she do it?"

"Honestly, I'm not that sure," Phoebe admitted. "We fled pretty far."

"Where were you girls?"

"Most of us fled back to Achaea," she explained, glancing over her shoulder. "Irene managed to find Helene and a couple of the girls in the Alps. I'm not even sure how she was able to move so fast. We're in Athens. What about you?"

Zoë clicked her tongue. "I should've gone back to Achaea. That makes the most sense. I'm in Ostia. Travelling through Italia is a nightmare. The war here is clogging all the land routes. As for Irene, do you suspect she might be using the Labyrinth to navigate?"

Phoebe's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Zoë said. "She's been involved in nearly everything. She'll have her methods of getting around. It really is a shame she won't join the Hunt."

Phoebe scowled. "_That's_ the part I don't understand. She might not be blindly following Percy around, but it's clear he's the reason why she won't join the Hunt."

Zoë pursed her lips. "I wouldn't put it like that..."

"Then _how_ would you put it?" Phoebe snapped. Her eyes were full of anger. "Because of him, we've been split up and hunted like beasts. She's done nothing but enable him—" She stopped herself before her voice got too loud.

Zoë watched Irene in the background. The daughter of Aphrodite was staring at her with indiscernible eyes. A part of her got the feeling she was ready to back out of their agreement. Phoebe was right in a way. Zoë couldn't understand why Irene so desperately wanted to help Percy. But, unlike Phoebe, Zoë had seen first-hand why Irene admired Percy.

Back in the old days, before Percy was exiled, when Irene had first become immortal, Percy had helped train her. Back then, even Zoë had to admit that she admired him as a hero. That was why she saved him from death on the beaches of Troy.

Irene was also different than her. She was raised a Trojan, fought for power within the royal family, endured the years of inhumane abuse from Deiphobus, and was not averse to killing, much like Percy. There was a darker side to her that had been unleashed after being subjugated to Deiphobus' crimes. A side that was never fully reconciled due to Percy's exile.

Zoë liked Irene as a friend, but a part of her didn't trust the Champion of None, given her inclination for acting on personal preference. One moment they could be best friends and the next they would be fighting on the battlefield. It had happened once already with Caesar's assassination.

"Let me speak to her," Zoë said. "Alone."

Phoebe hesitated for a moment. Then, she turned and waved for the girl.

Irene walked over, her arms crossed.

"Zoë wants to speak to you," Phoebe said curtly. She glanced at Zoë and gave her a salute. "We await your return."

Zoë nodded back and watched as Phoebe left. Irene's eyes followed Phoebe until she was gone.

"What did you want to speak about?" Irene asked as she turned to face Zoë.

"Will you begin the second part of our plan, as agreed upon?"

"I've already begun," Irene replied. Her eyes were steady and unwavering, as usual. "It'll take me several years to find them all. There are more Hunters than there are of me. I can delay Percy more easily. Do you really think you can delay Percy up to that point?"

"Easily," Zoë nodded. "If he truly wants to use the Trio, he will have to train them. In their current state, they will be no match for the Thirteenth and Fourteenth. Especially the son of Hades. The girl he loved died."

"Ionna?"

"Yes, her."

Irene nodded. Her eyes were sad. "She was a bright young girl. In any case, the Trio aren't powerful enough to defeat the Thirteenth and Fourteenth right now. They were only able to defeat a severely weakened Eleventh Legion, and that was at the cost of a significant portion of their energy."

"The fact that they were even able to destroy the legion at all is cause for concern," Zoë pointed out.

"I had guards from the emperor examine the ruins," Irene explained. She glanced over her shoulder, as if wary of eavesdroppers. "Several of the Romans in their heavy armor drowned just by being pulled out into the lake. But over half of the recoverable bodies at the site were executed. Their throats were cut. Quite a few of the Romans had drowned or were burned or shocked to death, which must have been Xanthe and Leon. But Percy still delivered the fatal blows. A little ways south of the camp was a field of dead Romans. I'm confident Percy was the one who delivered a large portion of the killing strikes."

She stared out toward the docks. Percy's boat to Athens had left long ago. She should've just stopped him there and then. She cursed her softness.

"Not all the Romans were good people," Irene said, as if she knew what she was thinking. "The same Romans who were killed were the ones who'd attacked the Greek camp and killed a good number of them."

"There are no good people in these wars," Zoë sighed. "It's all stupid and foolish. The damned son of Poseidon..." She held back from spewing out a string of curses.

"We will end this, one way or another." Irene gave her a sympathetic look. "I just... I hope it all ends peacefully. I don't want any more fighting either. I'm tired of this life."

Zoë gave her a nod. "So am I."

There was a brief pause in the conversation. Neither of them said anything. They just stared at each other, as if trying to read each other's thoughts and feelings. The mask Irene wore was starting to fade. It was about time. Zoë couldn't imagine holding in everything for hundreds of years, all her pain and suffering.

"You can still join the Hunt, you know," she said softly. "What happened to you... It doesn't disqualify you. I also endured the same—"

Irene's expression hardened, and she shut the door to her heart. Her eyes clouded over with anger and pain. "I told you, Zoë. I'm not going to join the Hunt. You have no clue about me and my past. You didn't endure years of rape and sexual abuse like I did. Your life as you knew may have been over when you betrayed your family, but what happened to me was considered trivial and normal in my family. No one stopped it. Not even my brother."

"You've still never told me the rationale," Zoë sighed. "Why would joining the Hunt be any worse than your life now? Don't tell me... you actually love Percy."

"I don't want to speak about it."

"Irene—"

"Dying, being mortal, having a limited amount of time on this world..." Irene interrupted. Her eyes focused on something Zoë couldn't see. "That's what makes being human so special. Because you only live life once. Even if your soul can live life several times, the you that you remember exists only once. You learn to appreciate the life you're given and live it as best you can. Whether it's a dogfight to survive, or a life of fulfilment and joy, you do your best with the life you've been given. It's something that we, as immortals, forget. Because the only way we can die is if we're poisoned or struck down in battle."

"That doesn't answer my—"

"Being immortal means we remember for eternity all the terrible things we endured." Irene's voice wavered. "If we died and went to the Fields of Asphodel, we will slowly forget who we were. If we went to Elysium, then we could opt to try for rebirth, dip ourselves into the Styx to forget the harsh reality of our previous life. If we go to the Fields of Punishment, the pain of the moment would override the pain of the past."

Zoë pursed her lips. "Joining the Hunt would provide a sufficient distraction. You would have a family to support you during tough times."

"No." Irene's eyes were watery despite her cold gaze. "Joining the Hunt would mean succumbing to an immature hatred for men, succumbing to the very emotions he wanted me to feel. Powerless, vulnerable. Governed by _him_."

"That's not what we feel," Zoë said. A protective pride swelled in her chest as she scowled. "Are you calling Lady Artemis immature?"

"Of course not. To support women in a society that only rewards men is admirable. Men, as a whole, are conditioned to believe they are better than women. No, that women are lesser than men. But that's not true for everyone. Lady Artemis doesn't take it as hard as your Hunters. They choose to hate all men because of what a few men did to them. Sure, most men in our current society are asses to women. But that doesn't grant them the right to discriminate. I can't conform to that belief. I can't conform with the Hunters' values. Joining would make Deiphobus win. His actions will have governed my fate."

Zoë hadn't ever heard Irene argue that before. It was always something about her loyalty to Athena and to Olympus and how she needed to be a counterweight. Going solo was always easier than having to wait for a team. Zoë understood that. But she never considered the fact that Irene couldn't reconcile with their differences.

Irene hadn't recovered from her past. That much was evident. If she had, she wouldn't have been so closed and so quick to anger when it came to the topic. But she was right, in a way. The girls who'd joined the Hunters came from mixed backgrounds. Some were horribly abused and exploited. Others were simply cast away. All the Hunters shared the same disdain for men, but how they came to share those feelings stemmed from their similar interpretations of their different pasts.

Zoë wanted to help Irene. She was always suffering alone. She was always suffering, trying to help and stop Percy simultaneously.

"Percy is my hero," Irene continued, taking a shaky breath. "I admire him. I don't think I love him the way you think. But it hurts to watch him devolve into what he has become. He cares about you. He might care about me. He will definitely come to care about the Trio. We shouldn't seek to _stop_ him. We need to _save_ him."

_Can he even be saved?_ She looked down at her feet and frowned.

"Please, Zoë," Irene begged. She looked even more desperate than the last time they spoke. Zoë wondered what the girl had found since then about Percy's plans. "If you have to choose between saving the Hunters and saving Percy, don't eliminate the possibility of saving Percy."

"I... How could I...?"

"I know it sounds insane. But if you don't, and the Trio can't, I don't know for certain how far Percy will go."

The girl's charmspeak washed over her like the sweet smell of a spring-time garden. Her mind and body and soul felt compelled to agree. That was how she knew Irene was desperate. The daughter of Aphrodite seldom let her charmspeak through unless she intended to, and the wave of magic was far too weak for someone with her capabilities. Irene was holding back, giving her the opportunity to make her own independent decision.

"What do you fear?"

Irene let out a long sigh, causing the Iris-message to ripple and shimmer. "He has a contingency plan. If the Trio all die, and Percy's not convinced to stop the bloodshed, he'll resort to something more evil and more sinister than anything we've ever seen. He'll do what Achilles did. Dip into the River Styx. He'll hide his weak point, and finish what he started."

Zoë's blood turned to ice. "You mean...?"

"He'll kill every last one of them himself, even if it means drowning a million innocent people."

* * *

**Hey everyone. I know it's been a while. Things have been pretty slow these days. I've been considering potentially writing another story after this and, as you might guess, that has part of me wary (because I can never seem to finish stories these days) and part of me kind of excited (because I generally like writing these, even if they're far from perfect). That has also complicated my ability to continue writing _this_ story, which is not a good thing.**

**So I'm going to shut up and try to get this one done before even thinking about another one. If I managed to finish writing this thing sooner rather than later, the duration between uploads is going to shrink significantly as well, which makes it a win-win. I'm going to keep trying!**


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Thanas had one of those nightmares, the ones Xanthe had warned him about.

"Eat Dharma!" the Panchala warrior barked. He shoved Dharma's intestines into his mouth. "Now!"

Percy whimpered, tasting the raw flesh and blood. He looked like he wanted to vomit as they force-fed him. His hands, tied behind his back, were useless. Anaklusmos lay on the ground just out of his reach, and there was no water in sight.

The Panchala warrior growled and threw Dharma's heart at him. "Eat!"

Percy ate.

Tears streamed down his face as he bent to the will of the attackers. Thanas could hardly watch any longer. He remembered what Xanthe told him about the worst dream she saw, the one of Percy in Babylonia watching a child named Nabu, who he'd grown close to, die at the hands of invaders from the northwest. The dream he was having eclipsed the barbarity of Nabu's death... and then went beyond imagination.

The gutted the body, grabbing anything that resembled flesh, and fed them to Percy like a feast. And none of it was cooked. If Percy hadn't been immune to any sickness, he surely would have died from the disease and garbage in those innards.

Thanas wanted to vomit.

He'd seen a lot of the Underworld. He'd seen the undead. He'd seen rotten flesh. But he had never seen this sort of atrocity before.

Dharma's son was being tortured not too far away from Percy. He'd just finished the order by the Panchala to rape and kill his sister and mother, and they flayed him alive. The Panchala men were taking their turns raping their corpses, and all the kin of Dharma who had come to his aid lay dead in the burning wreckage.

Percy was stabbed in the shoulder when he clamped down on the Panchala warrior's finger, and the son of Poseidon wailed out in pain. They shoved more flesh into his mouth.

It was like watching a hero's fall from grace.

When the dreams started, he saw Percy travelling with the Argonauts. He was a hero, a mortal, growing older and becoming more and more mature — both physically and mentally. He saw him save that girl, Zoë, and he saw their travels together. He saw Percy fight in the Trojan War, earning the respect and praise from the kings of the time.

But then the bad. Starving in the desert, being attacked by countless monsters and enemies, finding family only to have it stripped away from him.

Percy suddenly collapsed, and the Panchala warrior jumped back in surprise. The Panchala warrior looked down at the innards of Dharma and shrugged. Maybe he figured Percy died from all the guts he ate. Turning to his comrades, he shouted something in a language the dream was concealing from Thanas. The others quickly finished killing Dharma's son before they left the village in smoldering ruins.

As if time was suddenly moving faster and faster, dusk became night and night became dawn.

Thanas almost thought Percy really had succumbed to a sickness, but in the morning, Percy bolted upright, his eyes wild and alert. He looked like he'd woken up from a bad dream. But, then again, with the chaos around him, it almost seemed like he'd woken up into a bad dream.

Percy crawled over to Dharma's disfigured corpse. He shook violently as he realized the full extent of what he had done. He went over and checked every single dead body, at least ten of them.

None of them were alive.

Percy wept as he came to Dharma's son, daughter and wife, crying out their names. Vayu, Arya and Harini. He knelt over their bodies and cried for what seemed like half a day. No one came to him. The villagers that fled had avoided the site of atrocity, and there was hardly a soul in sight. Of the couple times a small group passed by on horseback, they continued riding with but a mere glance toward the ruins.

Thanas could only imagine the horror in Percy's mind.

Ionna's body was as clean as a freshly-made sword in comparison. He'd experienced the death of a loved one, but that paled in comparison to what Percy had faced. It was no wonder that Percy's eyes had the glint of a madman. But Thanas had one question. In everything he'd seen, in everything Xanthe had told him about, Percy never had the heart to kill. He gave up far more easily than he expected. The way he was now, Thanas expected Percy to go on a killing rampage, avenging all his fallen loved ones. It was almost as if he was holding himself back.

Percy had let loose before. Twice.

The first time had been when Achilles died. He'd killed all the Trojans and Aethiopians who'd tried to steal the warrior's armour. The second time had been after the death of Helen and during the sack of Troy when he turned on his fellow Greeks.

He'd tried to kill himself afterward and would have succeeded had it not been for Zoë.

If Thanas had to guess, it was that Percy didn't want to succumb to his anger. He wanted to find another way to defeat Apollo and Mars. At least, that was his intention before something triggered within him. Something terrible must have happened, or maybe something had happened often enough to flip that switch and never turn it back.

For the first time, Thanas felt truly scared by Percy's power and anger. Not because of how powerful he was. But because of the lengths he'd go to use his powers. When they destroyed the Eleventh Legion, Thanas had never seen eyes more poisonous than Percy's. Percy's execution tactics were hard to watch, even if they were far from graphic. It was as if Percy enjoyed watching the Romans die slowly, suffering in pain until they could no longer bear it.

But, even more so, Thanas believed he understood why he was having these dreams. Treasure the ones you love, he thought. They can disappear the next day. Honour the fallen. Love even in death. Human mortality is a scary thing. But the best thing you can do is embrace it and live every day like it's your last.

Even so, he felt like retching as soon as he woke.

"Thanas?" Leon asked. He looked wide awake, which never ceased to amaze Thanas. He wore a small smile. "Nightmare?"

The son of Hades nodded. "You look cheerful."

Leon gave him a smile. "Are you telling me that I always look awake? Even at night time?"

Thanas mumbled. "I don't understand how you do it."

"Years of practice," Leon shrugged. "Every _dies Solis_ I take a day's rest. It's the Lord's day back home. Everyone prays. I wake up, pray, and then sleep. I'm not sure why, but the monsters seem to respect my village on those days. They never attack. Every other night, though..."

Thanas looked at himself. He always thought of himself as powerful, but looking at Leon made him jealous. Leon was handsome, powerful, the son of the King of the Gods. He was everything Thanas wasn't. The most important thing was that he was able to survive on his own for years, fighting monsters off and developing his skills. And he didn't even acknowledge his power.

Thanas thought it was odd that the son of Zeus wasn't crazy for power, wasn't crazy for leadership, like all the legends he'd heard. In all the stories he'd been told, the only son of Zeus who didn't turn out to be that bad was Perseus.

The boat shuddered, and Xanthe shot up like a bird.

She extended her hand in a clawed gesture to ward off evil and shouted 'Go away' in the old tongue. The ominous feeling creeping up Thanas' spine dissipated.

Leon gave her a small smile. "Nightmares?"

Xanthe stared at him. "How are you so cheerful?"

"Because no one else seems to want to be cheerful?" Leon suggested, gesturing at Thanas. "He was all grumpy and vomity when he woke up."

Xanthe looked at Thanas. The unspoken message was in her eyes. _Are you having those dreams?_

He nodded slightly.

Leon looked at the two of them and narrowed his eyes. "What is that look you guys are giving each other? What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing," Thanas muttered.

"Have you had them?"

Thanas stared at Xanthe incredulously.

"Had what...?" Leon asked.

Xanthe began to explain. Thanas wanted to strangle the girl. She'd threatened to drown him if he ever mentioned those dreams to Leon just a few days ago, the morning after Ionna died, and now she was explaining the whole damn thing to him anyway. The girl really was just as unpredictable as her father.

After she explained what she'd seen, including her dream from the past night — which ended up being about Percy nearly starving to death before the Kuru, Dharma's people, found him near a riverbed — she forced Thanas to explain his dreams. He explained the continuation of Percy's experience with the Kuru and Panchala.

"That sounds... horrifying," Leon concluded after they finished explaining. "Honestly, I don't blame him. Anyone would go insane if every bad event possible happened to them."

"I think it only makes him more dangerous," Xanthe countered.

"In a good or bad way?" Leon asked.

She looked at Ionna's wrapped body. She looked solemn in the glittering moonlight. "Can it be both? I get that we need to fight the Romans but... I just don't want anything bad to happen again. Ionna already made her sacrifice. It's not fair if even more have to."

"But isn't that why we have to follow Percy?" Thanas couldn't bear to look toward Ionna's body. Just thinking about the reality that she was gone was almost enough to push him over the edge into unrelenting fury. "So that this never happens again. If we destroy the Roman legions—"

"Well, actually..." Leon licked his lips nervously. "I haven't had the dreams that you guys have had. But I have had dreams about Percy. He was there, in the Trojan War, alongside Achilles. I also saw him fighting alongside Leonidas at Thermopylae. And I'm not sure if you guys remember our chat about how Trajan's victorious Thirtieth was destroyed when I first arrived but..."

Thanas recalled that day vividly. It was the day Xanthe's mother had died. It was the day the Romans destroyed their camp. How could he forget? It hadn't been all that long ago.

"Destroyed in an earthquake and tidal wave some two hundred years ago," Xanthe nodded. "Why?"

Leon looked down and pressed his lips together tightly. Any sign of cheerfulness or cautious optimism had dissipated from his gaze. "It wasn't just your father that caused that earthquake and tidal wave. By the year units now, it was about 365 A.D. The very last task the Thirtieth Legion was given was to find a troublesome Greek demigod hiding near Kydonia on Crete. They tracked him all the way to the west coast of the island where they were met with their target: a lone son of Poseidon."

"No... he couldn't have..." Xanthe whispered.

Leon swallowed and continued. "He did. Percy nearly killed himself doing it, but he unleashed an earthquake and tidal wave that submerged and drowned the entire legion. He summoned the vengeance of his father's Roman form, and the fighting between Poseidon and Neptune unleashed another devastating earthquake and tidal wave that killed thousands."

Xanthe shook her head. "I don't... I don't understand how he became so cruel. In our dreams, he's broken and wants to heal. He wants revenge for what Apollo and Mars and Venus did to him, but he wasn't willing to compromise with his new ideals."

"Something must have pushed him over the edge," Thanas suggested. "But what...?"

"I'm sure we'll find out," Leon said. He pointed out to starboard. "Quite soon, in fact."

In the distance, land broke over the horizon. Even from out here he could see the famed Acropolis. They were back home. Thanas glanced at Ionna's carefully wrapped body next to him. They were back to her home. They would finally be able to grant her a proper burial. And, at last, grant her soul peace before he turned the Roman legions to dust.

* * *

"Why here?" Xanthe asked.

"The Goth King said this would be where we would find our answers," Leon said, staring at the old building. They were in the outskirts of the city, where the land beyond stretched into wilderness. Wild weeds and grass grew around the property, but Leon knew it had once been farmland. An old, familiar whisper filled the air around the place.

"I know this place," Thanas said quietly. "Ionna told me about it."

Leon and Xanthe looked at him.

He straightened, taking a long, hard look at the sign at the front. "Ionna's from Athens. When she first came to camp... I remember her mentioning something about her father living near a place called 'something' of the Gods. It was 'Property', I guess."

"Children!" a woman called out. "Children! Stay away!"

Leon looked over to their right. An elderly woman waved her hands frantically at them, as if warning them of a monster. "Stay away from those lands!"

Leon glanced at the Property of the Gods. He pointed at it.

The woman nodded. "They say _pagans_ used to live there. Stay away from those wretched heathens!"

He could sense Thanas tense up. Before the son of Hades could do anything rash, Leon stepped forward and shook his head. "No, no. It's okay. We heard legends of this land. If God has willed us to be here, then he will protect us from the demons from Hell."

"I warn you!" the woman shouted back. She still didn't look satisfied. "The last man who entered the Property of the Gods lost his entire family to sickness. Only a child remained, one that looked nothing like him. She had blonde hair and grey eyes. A demon, I tell you. When she disappeared six years later, the man went insane. He visited the place one more time and he never left! Terrible fate!"

"I'm in no mood for this," Thanas growled and raised his hand.

Leon grabbed his arm and shook his head adamantly. "You can't just kill her because she's annoying us."

"Ionna is dead!" Thanas said coldly. His eyes burned black, though that made no logical sense. Leon felt like he was being sucked into the Underworld. "She's done nothing wrong! If another stupid Christian tells me about their stupid Lord again, I'll lose it!"

"Enough!" Leon snapped. He glanced back. The elderly woman had disappeared. "Let's just bring Ionna's body in and give her the proper burial rights, whatever they are."

Xanthe finally intervened. She still looked shaken up from seeing Ionna's dead body and the bad dream, but she seemed at least a little more in control of herself. "Let's go, Thanas. Respect Ionna. Respect the dead. Let's move on."

The building was small. Leon suspected it was once a home. There was a space to sleep in the back, an area where he presumed food was cooked, and a storage area. There was even a private area to go to the washroom in case of an emergency. It must have been ages ahead of its time. The structure looked like it had weathered a thousand years of storms. Considering it was called the Property of the Gods, he felt inclined to believe that it actually had.

They laid Ionna's body down in the main area.

Thanas took extra care to clean the floor around her, brushing away dust and dirt and rocks. Leon knelt down next to him, trying his best to support the son of Hades. He could sense Thanas' turbulent thoughts.

"Hey, guys!" Xanthe called out from another room. "Come look at this."

Leon glanced at Thanas, who looked up toward Xanthe's voice. The two of them stood and followed the sound of her voice to a room even farther in the back of the structure.

It was a storage room of sorts. Tables and shelves lined the walls, carrying a wide assortment of old artefacts and treasures. He could see mini statues and jewels, sort of like a museum on display. Whose property was this?

Then, suddenly, Thanas whirled around. His sword materialized in his hand and he took a step toward the entrance. A girl, who was dressed in what looked like a hunter's garments, leaned against the doorframe and took a long, hard look at them. Her beady red eyes were unnatural, and Leon could feel an unprovoked sense of aggravation just by looking at the girl.

"Who are you?" Thanas asked, strengthening his grip on his sword.

The girl looked him up and down and seemed to decide that he wasn't a threat. "I could ask the same of you. Why are there three children carrying a dead body into a building no one dares to enter?"

The way she called them 'children' unnerved Leon, as if she was not a child herself. Leon figured she looked barely twelve years old.

Thanas stared at her, as if analyzing her soul. "You're... you're immortal, aren't you?"

"In a way, yes," she nodded. She drew her knife, and Leon got the feeling that she was ready to fight if they weren't willing to cooperate. "My name is Phoebe. If I weren't in such a predicament, I wouldn't bother speaking to you, but alas..."

Leon wondered if the girl had seen them in her dreams or something. There was clearly something she was hiding from them.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Xanthe blurted. "What are you exactly?"

"A demigod, like Percy," Thanas said. "A child of Ares."

Phoebe scowled. "It would serve you well to not prod. But, I suppose, yes. A child of Ares. Born early in the Golden Age of demigods. An immortal Hunter under Artemis for generations before joining the group I help now, the Hunters of Artemis."

"Hunters of Artemis..." Leon recognized that name. The old seer had mentioned many things to him. One of them was about a group of girls pledging an oath to the goddess Artemis to never be swayed by men. They weren't very well known. At least, not amongst the common folk. But the first thing that came out of his mouth was: "The group of man-haters, right?"

Phoebe sheathed her knife and walked past the three of them. She approached a table where the collection of spheres and old machinery lay. She brushed the cobwebs off them and flung the spiders away with her blade. "I suppose that name is fitting."

"Man-haters?" Xanthe mumbled. "That sounds..."

"If you had witnessed the terrible things I've seen men do, you would agree," she said sharply. "Often, for no reason, women are treated like objects. Simply because many of us are weaker, smaller, more frail. Rape, plunder, pillage. War is gruesome in many ways. The way women are treated is perhaps the worst."

"What... you've been alive for thousands of years?" Leon asked.

"Like Percy," Thanas muttered.

"Longer," she said. She seemed to be searching for something among the spheres. "I became immortal when the original Perseus, the son of Zeus, was just a toddler. I only joined the Hunters later, after it became an official group tied to Artemis' hip."

Thanas put away his own sword and walked over to the table. He stood across from the Hunter and leaned forward on his palms. "You know Percy?"

"Perhaps the only man the Hunt has ever tolerated that has not ever been a part of the Hunt," she muttered. "There are legends about Orion. That man embodies the worst qualities in men. Deceitful, lustful and arrogant. We drove him off, but he makes his visits every so often for revenge. Percy, on the other hand..." Her expression turned sour. "We tolerated him once. Artemis warned us that it would not last. Now... now he has been corrupted. It would take a lot more than just a friend to save him."

Leon couldn't really tell if Phoebe was angry or disappointed. Maybe she was both. But the way she spoke about Percy, he could sense lingering resent.

"Seeing as you know Percy..." Phoebe said, grabbing one of the older-looking spheres. "I suppose you haven't seen why he's so adamant about destroying the Romans."

Leon glanced at Xanthe and Thanas.

"I want to destroy them too," Thanas mumbled.

"But tell me, son of Hades," the Hunter said, looking straight at him. "Why do you want to destroy Rome?"

Thanas opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't manage anything but a mere squeak. Leon thought about his reason to fight against the Romans. Why _did_ he fight against them? Why not try to make peace?

The answer was simple: because the Romans wanted to kill him.

There wasn't any intention or malice he felt toward Romans that made him want to destroy them. It was simply an issue of striking first. If the Romans wanted to kill him, he would make sure they wouldn't be able to. In fact, Leon had never really met any Romans in his life. He didn't know what kind of people they were. Were they all bloodthirsty savages? When they destroyed the Eleventh, a few of the younger Romans were laughing and playing around a campfire. Would that not be something he would do?

Leon looked over at Xanthe. She stared at the ground. Her eyes swirled with emotions, like the sea during a storm. She'd told him a lot about her half-brother, a Roman legionnaire in the Eleventh Legion. He would've been killed in their raid on the legion. He couldn't imagine how she must have felt. Even then, when he found her on that beach the day after they drowned the encampment, the signs of regret and self-loathing were evident.

"Archimedes' inventions plus a hint of magic," Phoebe muttered, turning the sphere. It was split into two, meaning she was able to rotate one half without moving the other. As she did, something seeped its way out of the sphere like mist. In fact, it was mist.

"What in the world!" Leon exclaimed, feeling jumpy.

"Watch," Phoebe ordered.

And the mist surrounded them, forming a moving image, as if they had been transported to another world.

A goddess, with a grim expression, said, "Run, Percy. Go as far as you can! Hide from the gods. You will not be welcome by Zeus anymore!"

"My father—"

"He will be fine! Go!"

Percy took one last look at her and ran off into the forest. He ran for what seemed like days, as the sun rose and set a dozen times. The landscape around him shifted from forest to hills to sea to desert.

He collapsed to the ground and, somewhere in the background, Percy's voice began to speak.

_I ran for days_, he narrated. _All the way into Persia, into the lands that I had travelled all those years ago with Zoë. Before... before Hecate found me._

A wall of black Mist surrounded him, and Percy looked up. He looked tired, desperate and lonely. His eyes were red, as if he'd been crying. The palms of his hands and the soles of his feet were raw and red. He bled from a cut on his arm. Leon could hardly believe that Percy was the same Percy that had cut down ranks of Trojans during the Trojan War. It was one thing to hear Thanas and Xanthe describe their dreams. It was something completely different to see it with his own eyes.

"Stop!" the Percy in the image shouted. "Please!"

"I'm not here to kill you," a voice said. Out of the Mist stepped the goddess Hecate, carrying her famous torches. "You are now at a crossroads. This marks the edge of the land of the gods. Should you choose to venture east, you will no longer be under our influence, our guidance, or our protection. It is time to decide your fate."

"Don't play games with me!" Percy snarled. "Leave me be!"

"You want revenge?" Hecate asked. A door formed behind Percy, where he'd come from. "You can turn around and fight the gods if you dare. A sure death, but a painless and quick one."

A door formed to Percy's left. In the image, Percy trudged through endless snow, holding his arms and shivering. Slowly, he sank in the snow. As he walked forward, he disappeared into the endless white.

"You can turn north and leave civilization," Hecate said. "Live for years in the wilderness alone. But in these lands, you will not fare well. The animals, the earth, the sky. They will eat away at your body, your mind and your soul. The wild will consume you, as you endure a long, painful demise."

A door formed to Percy's right. In the image, Percy sat on the shore on a sunny day. He wore a different style of clothing; it was much looser, more suited for hotter climates. He looked more relaxed, more at peace.

"You can turn south and join the Near East," the goddess of magic explained. "You will enjoy your life, but as time passes, your connection with Olympus will fade. You will be unable to stop the inevitable. Your life will be peaceful and prosperous. But your days will end early. You will not stop what must come."

"What's east?" Percy asked, staring at the black Mist.

"Pain and suffering beyond anything you can imagine," Hecate said. She lifted her hand and raised the door. The door flashed, and a new image flickered to life. Percy hung by a single hand from a cliff's edge, screaming for help. He lay exhausted in what seemed like an endless desert. Hecate tossed one of her torches into the sand. "A part of you will be left behind, like a lost relic in the vast wilderness. But you will find your answers in the east. You will survive and you will draw the strength to defeat your own creation."

"Will it give me the power to defeat my enemy?" Percy's eyes suddenly swirled with anger. "Which paths will lead me that way?"

"North, west or south... you fail."

"Not an option," he said. "I'll... I'll go east."

Hecate nodded. "So let it be."

The north, west and south doors crumbled into Mist.

"Ah, yes," the goddess said, pulling something out of her pocket. It was a small container. "Nemesis sends you her regards. As the goddess of balance, she said to remind you that no victory comes without sacrifice. When the time comes, break open the container. Use it either as a shield or as a sword. It is your choice."

Percy took the container. "What is inside?"

"You are a part of two worlds, Percy," Hecate said. She picked up the torch she had tossed aside and began to back away to the west. "You are now on your own. All demigods have the capacity to learn magic. Some are more gifted than others. Take the vial's contents. If you are chosen, magic will bend to your will. If you are not, then you shall never be truly human again."

"Wait, Hecate!"

And the Mist, and the world, dissolved into a new scene.

"Welcome!" a man said.

The man had a short frame, slightly tanned complexion, and eyes in a permanent squint as if he'd been staring at the sun for years. But he was, evidently, muscular. His shoulders were broad, like he'd been a laborer for his entire life.

"Thank you," Percy said, bowing to the older man. "I thank you for your welcoming of me."

Xanthe grabbed Leon's hand, and he suddenly felt embarrassed. She looked at him and whispered, "This... I've had a dream about this place before. Last night. This is the Far East."

Looking around, Leon realized she was right. There was a whole village of foreign folk. Not all of them were short and lightly tanned like the man who'd greeted Percy. Some had dark skin like the Persians. The ones underneath parasols were fair, even fairer than them. There were those short in height. A few stood tall, even taller than Percy.

"Are you okay?" a girl a bit younger than Percy's physical form asked. "You look tired."

She was about nose height compared to him, which was taller than many of the girls in the village. She wore plain clothes made out of a fabric Leon had never seen before. It was a long tunic that went down to her ankles, strapped to her body by a belt around her waist. Her hair hung loosely past her shoulders, and a cone-shaped hat protected her from the sun. She was pretty; her skin was lightly tanned, much like the man, and her eyes were big and brown.

"I am," Percy replied. He didn't quite sound like himself, and Leon realized that he was listening to a translated version of the actual conversation. "I have travelled long and hard."

"You are from the west?" she asked.

He nodded.

"That is very far," she agreed. "Anyone who has gone west has never come back. Are there really people there?"

"Yes. Big cities."

The girl turned to the man, who Leon presumed was her father. "Isn't that amazing, Father?"

"You must tell us about these cities," the man agreed. He bowed with just his head. "My name is Shu Lin."

"I am Percy."

"Per... cy...?" the girl tried to pronounce. "That is a strange name."

"I am the first stranger from the lands in the west you have ever seen," Percy said with a smile. He extended his hand. "It is nice to meet you."

The girl stared at his hand. "What is this?"

"It is a... gesture that I have used back in my home," Percy said. His proficiency with the language must have been rudimentary at the time. He grabbed her hand and shook lightly. "It is a sign of respect."

She stared at his hand for a moment. Then she broke out into a smile. "Then I will respect you, too. My name is Mei."

The scene shifted.

It was night time, and Mei looked a few years older. They sat outside in the fields, looking out at the dazzling stars in the night sky. The rest of the village was quiet. Many of the villagers were inside their homes, sleeping or preparing to sleep. The few that remained outside were guards and village elders, checking on the villagers one last time before they went to bed.

"So you really do not grow," she marvelled through a sniffle. It looked like she had been crying. "You are mysterious, Percy."

"Is that really what you want to talk about after Jin...?" Percy asked. His eyes were filled with worry. He looked fond of the girl and was upset that she had been crying. "You were supposed to get married."

"I don't want to think about Jin," Mei said, shaking her head. A tear escaped her right eye. "I can't think about him without feeling like I have lost a part of me."

"I am sorry," he said, looking down. "I should have protected him. The five of us were supposed to come back if we saw the horsemen. We were not supposed to fight."

"It isn't your fault at all, Percy," Mei insisted. She sniffled and wiped her tears away. "At least... At least I know that Jin was brave in his last moments. I just wish... I just wish I had gotten to say goodbye."

"We gave him as much support as we could as he travels into the Underworld," he replied. "I just wish it had not come to this."

"Underworld?" Mei sniffed again and blinked at him. "You speak again of this different notion. What is the afterlife where you come from like? What do your people believe in?"

Percy went on to explain the Underworld to her in horrifyingly accurate detail. Or, at least, judging by Thanas' reaction, in accurate detail. He told her about the Olympians and how they actually existed and that the foreign spirits she believed in likely existed in tune. Mei nodded in understanding.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Percy asked.

Mei leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "I am forbidden to do this. Let us keep it a secret, but thank you, Percy. You are like a brother to me. You don't need to treat me like royalty. I am just a farm girl. Nothing more."

Percy smiled sadly and looked up at the stars. "If I am honest, I am also just a farm boy."

Mei looked at him in confusion. "Just a farm boy? But you are a warrior! You can fire a bow. You can wield a spear and a sword like a master."

"I was born on a farm," he admitted. "Like this one. Back in my home, I was the lowest class. My mother and I had nothing but each other and the farm. We did not grow much in the fields because it was only two of us. But like I told you, I am the son of a god. My life is not easy. I had to learn to fight. If not, I would die. Sometimes, I wonder if fighting is really what I am meant to do."

She pursed her lips and stared at him. After a long silence, she said, "Your eyes are beautiful."

He turned to face her, startled and embarrassed by the compliment. "What do you mean? Why do you say that?"

"When you are happy or... what is the word for it?" She frowned and tried to think. "You know, the word for when you are sad but remembering good things?"

Percy looked up, as if in thought. "Yes, I understand. I do not know of a good word in this language."

"Yes, but anyway," she continued. "When you are happy or remembering good things, your eyes shine like the rivers on a sunny day. Traders from the east tell of a beautiful, enormous body of water that stretches beyond what we can see."

"The sea?"

Mei smiled and, as she did, her eyes suddenly looked like half-moons. She was dazzling with beauty like one of the stars, despite the fact that her clothes were covered with dirt and her face was matted with dried sweat. "Yes, the sea. You have seen it before?"

He nodded. "Far in the west, where I am from, we have the sea."

"That is amazing!" she exclaimed. She turned to face the east and gazed sadly into the distance. "I wish I could see the sea. Something tells me they look like your eyes. Beautiful and mesmerizing."

Percy blushed. "Thank you for the compliment."

Mei put her hand on his arm. "You are a good person, Percy. When you are not fighting, when you are at peace with your surroundings, you are a good person."

"So when I am fighting, I am not a good person?"

Mei laughed. "Of course not. Sometimes you look like you're crazy, like you want to crush the enemy. I suppose that is good in warfare, but I like you better when you do not kill anyone. You are much friendlier."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

The girl just smiled. "You will continue to be a good person, right? No fighting unless you have to?"

Percy's smile faltered.

She noticed his hesitation immediately. "What's wrong now?"

"I... I must admit something," he said. His eyes were sad and lost. "I have been in these lands for many years, living amongst your kind. Helping them prosper. I am still not good at the language yet. But I love the people. You are all great. Still, I have seen horrors that I cannot forget. Terrible, terrible misdeeds."

Mei tilted her head to the side in curiosity. "Like what?"

"Killing. Destroying. Stealing. Burning." Percy's voice began to waver and he caught himself. "So many bad things. You would not believe how much pain I have seen... how much I have suffered. It is... horrifying."

She looked at him with concern. The two seemed to have bonded quite closely over the past few years. "I can't speak for you or for my people, but what I know is this: the world is full of good and bad people. Good and bad exists everywhere. Among my people there are good and bad people. Among other people there are good and bad people. I understand how it is easy to blame others, and I do the same thing with the Donghu. But I think it's within yourself to determine what you want to be. Good and bad exists in everyone. Sometimes people may be more good than bad or they may be more bad than good. Good, bad. It is our duty to fight and be the good that we all can be. That is what makes us human. That is what makes us beautiful creatures."

Percy glanced at her tentatively.

"Be the best person you can be," Mei said. "That is all I can ask for."

The scene shifted again.

Percy was racing back on his horse, galloping along the riverside through the bushes. His face was taut with worry. Looking ahead to his right, the other horseman decided to take a sharp right and cross over the hill.

He followed suit.

"Percy!" the other horseman shouted. "The village!"

Percy's voice began to narrate. _As I crested the hill, I saw the fires burning in the distance. A whole field of crops was on fire, and smoke rose in a thick column. I could see the scattered Donghu in different parts of the village, using their mounts to slaughter the men in a wave of death. I cursed so much that day. Reinforcements wouldn't arrive until at least midday. Only Huang and I were there to try and save the villagers._

The two of them charged into battle.

Percy immediately drew his bow and fired two arrows before jumping off his horse. He struck two of the Donghu warriors grabbing the women and children. Instead of engaging the Donghu, Percy looked around in a panic, as if he was looking for someone.

"No!" Percy shouted.

Leon turned and stepped back in terror at the sight. Xanthe's hand squeezed his hand in a death grip. She was white with fear and nausea.

Mei was screaming in pain as one of the nomads raped her. Her father and mother lay at her side, dead. Her father looked like he'd been stabbed several times, and a long arrow sprouted from her mother's neck. Even worse was that Mei had been fighting the warrior. His nose was broken, and he hadn't taken too kindly to it.

Leon felt like vomiting as he saw the body parts that had been cut off. Her hands were gone and her chest had been sawed open. She was bleeding heavily from the wound, and Leon thought it was a miracle that she wasn't dead. His hands went numb as he began to shudder in repulsion.

"Mei!" Percy ran toward the girl, but another Donghu nomad cut him off.

Leon tried to focus his attention on the fight, but the sheer brutality and graphic treatment of Mei's body was too much to ignore. The warrior finally released and pulled away. Quickly covering himself with his clothes and armour, he took a dagger and stabbed Mei right where he'd invaded her, as if to kill the child before it could be born.

Mei screamed in pain. She was sobbing with tears, and her body shuddered. The nomad yelled something at his partner fighting Percy, and the two of them quickly retreated on a horse. Percy dropped Anaklusmos and ran over to Mei.

"Mei..." Percy looked absolutely stunned. He was shaking violently. "Mei..."

Everyone watching knew she was going to die. And there was nothing Percy could do about it.

Phoebe was shaking with rage. Her fists clenched, Leon could imagine how this impacted the way she viewed men. It was senseless. It was brutal. It was absolutely revolting. And it was most definitely not the first time she'd seen it.

As Percy cried out in vain, a series of other images flooded the misty vision. Murder, looting, pillaging, raping. It was as if all the worst horrors the world had to offer had been burned into Percy's memory. A series of memories that nearly broke Leon's mind flashed in his eyes for just the briefest of moments.

"Mei!" Percy yelled as she died. He looked up to the heavens. "Why? Why!"

The world shimmered around them.

It didn't seem like they'd gone far from the village. The landscape around them was very similar. But around Percy were the corpses of dozens of dead nomads and horses. There was one nomad remaining. With a shock, Leon realized it was the one who had violated and delivered the killing blow to Mei.

The nomad whimpered and begged for forgiveness.

Percy wasn't giving him any.

Of the all the horrible things Leon had seen, the torture Percy was inflicting on the rapist ranked number one. His thumbs had been cut off and stuffed up his nose. His pinkies were stuffed into his ears. There were three arrows right in his exposed groin, and Leon could see his cut-off parts stuffed into his behind.

"Stop!" Xanthe shouted, her voice shaking. She had shut her eyes. She couldn't take it anymore. "Stop this! Don't show me this anymore!"

"I'll have you know," Percy said to the nomad, "that I do not forgive." He was speaking in their native tongue, Greek. "Not for _beasts _like you."

The nomad shook his head in fear. He was losing a lot of blood.

Percy stood up and watched him bleed. With Anaklusmos, he cut open the man's stomach and turned him on his side. The nomad was screaming bloody murder as his bowels slid out of his body.

That's when Leon saw it.

On the ground, at Percy's feet, was the container that Hecate had given to him as a gift from Nemesis. It had been cracked open. In horror, Leon realized that Percy had used whatever was inside the container as a weapon, to help him slaughter the nomads that sacked and destroyed his village.

_No victory comes without sacrifice_, Hecate had relayed.

It was more than just a simple sacrifice, Leon realized. Something had happened between him and the Olympians, causing a rift. His punishment was exile for whatever he had done to make Apollo and Ares mad. Of course, it made sense. Troy's most worshipped gods were Jupiter, Apollo and Mars. Apollo and Mars were the ones responsible for his exile. His travel east wasn't to help him merely get the power to enact revenge on them. His travel east was to unlock a savagery unmatched by any living demigod in history. To win against Rome, he would sacrifice his humanity.

Leon looked at Thanas. The son of Hades looked conflicted. He had come to the same conclusion.

The deal had been made. If Percy sacrificed his humanity, he would be able to reach his goal of destroying what Apollo and Ares held so dear. But if he stopped attacking Rome, he could feel human again, express the good within him that Mei had described. Or if he was made to feel human again...

The mist around them dissolved, sucked back up into the sphere.

Immediately, Xanthe let go of his hand and went into the corner of the room to vomit. Thanas leaned on the table, looking queasy.

Leon stumbled back and fell to his bottom, staring at the sphere in horror.

"Ahem," a voice coughed at the entrance of the room.

Leon looked up to see Percy and a girl about his age standing in the doorway. The girl was staring at Phoebe with a smile, as if glad to see her, but Percy was giving her a cold, hard look.

"Now, what do you think you're doing?"

* * *

**I know it's been a while. I've been quite busy, and I'm still working out exactly what I want to happen. I don't want to suddenly jump to the ending I've written, and I'm still working on the kinks on how best to explain the path to it. The pace might suddenly pick up out of nowhere, just as a fair warning, simply because I've laid most of the groundwork already.**

**Anyway, happy (belated) new year!**


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"I see you're leading another group of demigods to their deaths," Phoebe said coldly.

Percy scowled.

"And yet again, the Fates bring us together," Zoë sighed. She glanced at the Trio, and then at the building around them. "I'm surprised you never burned your home to the ground? Isn't that typically how your recruits go insane?"

He glanced at the dead body lying on the ground. There was no doubt it was Ionna. He could sense Thanas' grief. "There's a girl I know. Her father lived nearby. He once came here after becoming a father of a demigod. It ruined his life. This place... holds everything I left behind. Memories of an old time I can never have back. A haunted graveyard for anyone who dares enter."

Xanthe looked horrified as she looked up from the corner of the room. "You... you..."

"You shouldn't have watched it," he said. Shooting a glare at Phoebe, he snarled, "But I guess an annoying know-it-all had to show you these horrible things."

"Why... why would you keep them?" Thanas asked. He tried his best to hide it, but he looked and sounded disturbed. "Why would you store them in these spheres for people to see?"

Percy could tell the three were wary of him now. He sighed. "Listen, Thanas. If that memory wasn't in there—" He pointed at the sphere. "—it would _all_ be in here." He pointed at his head. "I'm not skilled enough at magic to wipe my own memory. I suffered for hundreds of years with a tortured mind. I accepted Aphrodite's apology, but other than that I was like an animal. I slaughtered and killed like you saw in that memory. I was there at Thermopylae before it was overrun by Persians. I fought in the Battle of Allia and helped sack Rome until the Senones were bought off. It wasn't until I met Archimedes that I found a way to remove some of the outright pain of these memories."

"Then why not break the spheres?" Thanas asked. "Why keep them?"

"Like I said, I'm not skilled enough at magic. If I break the spheres, the memories return to my mind. Ever since Archimedes helped me store these away, I've been more patient and more methodical in how I exact my revenge."

"It doesn't matter how you do it," Phoebe snarled. "Either way, you're a murderer and a coward."

"Then did you think I would roll over and die when Apollo and Aphrodite conspired to get me in trouble with Zeus?" He snapped at Phoebe, frustrated by her antagonistic behaviour. "I was exiled because I served my duty as a soldier of Olympus. Or did you already forget that I turned my back on the Greeks for the crimes they committed at Troy?"

"It hardly matters when the result of your revenge takes thousands of innocent lives!"

"I was left with nothing!" Percy felt like he was on the brink of exploding. "I was reduced to little more than dirt. You may have a family, but I lost mine the day I became immortal."

"This is why men are sickening," Phoebe growled, turning to Zoë. "I don't understand why you would—"

"Oh, so you're pulling the 'men are sickening' card, are you?" Percy laughed. "She might be generations younger than you, but at least Irene is mature enough to realize what lunacy is."

Phoebe drew her knife. "Why you—!"

"Stop!" Zoë barked, her eyes flashing angrily. "Enough, you two!"

Percy gritted his teeth. He turned to Zoë. "Get her out of here. You said you didn't want to see me in a bad situation? This is going to turn ugly so long as she's here."

Zoë pursed her lips. She looked at Phoebe and gestured toward the door.

Phoebe didn't look happy about it. She turned to the Trio. "You better watch out. Percy is not sane. He will destroy and kill anyone who deals with the Romans. He assassinated Julius Caesar after pretending to befriend him. He goaded Nero into setting fire to Rome and killed innocent civilians."

"Let's go, Phoebe," Zoë snapped irritably.

Phoebe curled her lip in distaste, but she finally turned and walked out the door.

"Don't succumb to hatred, Percy," Zoë said calmly. Her eyes flashed him a warning. "If you do, you'll destroy yourself and the world with it. Your time there was designed to break you. You have to keep fighting to beat it."

Percy couldn't look at her. "Sure."

Zoë remained, as if she was going to say more, but she decided against it and exited the room.

The Trio gave him apprehensive looks.

He let out a sigh and approached the table. He looked at each of the spheres. He could recall the exact memory stored in each sphere. He touched them one by one, his fingers trembling as the memories threatened to escape and return to his mind.

"I wish I could destroy these memories," he said. He held up the first sphere he'd made, the memory of the night his mother died. "I've contemplated diving into the Lethe. Let it sweep me into nothingness. But, if I did that, I might as well have died. Why not just kill myself instead?"

Leon and Thanas shared a look. They looked torn, as if unsure what to do next.

Percy stared at Xanthe. She couldn't meet his eyes. He thought about his contingency plan. If it came down to it, he would have to become the evilest villain in history. He figured Irene had found out by now, and he wondered how much Zoë knew, considering the look she gave him.

"Let's give Ionna a proper burial," he decided, slipping the sphere into the Infinity Pouch. He met each of their eyes. "Then we'll start training. We'll find the other Greeks and begin our last defense. Okay?"

Leon nodded numbly.

Xanthe looked down at her own hands. Her sorrowful gaze turned steely. She clenched her fists tightly, staring at them like they were stained with blood.

Thanas eyes lingered on Ionna's body. Conflict swirled in his eyes, mixing hatred and regret. He closed his eyes and nodded silently.

Percy did all the preparation. He carefully prepared the ritual, heading out to the town to purchase the necessary supplies. He set up the pyre outside on the field, careful to raise it above the flammable plants.

He placed Ionna gently on the wooden plank, keeping her wrapped in the beautiful shroud. The three were silent as they watched him work. He tried not to imagine what they were thinking. He didn't want to watch the pain in their eyes. Even if he'd turned cold-hearted, it didn't mean he couldn't feel any emotions.

As he put the finishing touches on the pyre, he saw the Trio approach the shroud.

Thanas gently lifted the cloth up, exposing Ionna's face. She didn't look tormented. In fact, she looked sad, as if she died knowing she would never see Thanas again. Her expression was peaceful, as if she'd gone to sleep after a long day of work. Her pale face was cold to the touch, her stiff muscles held into place.

Xanthe shut her eyes, holding back tears. Leon put an arm around her shoulders and let her rest her head on his own shoulder. He sighed sadly, his free arm clenched tightly by his side.

Thanas gave Ionna a sad look, kissing her forehead, before placing the drachmas onto her eyes. Percy gave him the honor of lighting the pyre.

The four of them watched, late into the night, as the fire burned through the shroud. The flame provided a sense of warmth in the cool night atmosphere, illuminating each of their faces with its flickering light. As the shroud burned, there was a soft sigh, as if Ionna had been freed from her body at last.

Thanas broke down again, sobbing on his knees as he watched the love of his life formally pass onto the Underworld.

Percy figured they needed some time on their own. He told them quietly that he would await them inside the home before heading off. Percy stood in the cooking area, staring at the spot where his mother had died.

_If they must endure Ionna's death, you can endure your mother's_, a part of his mind said.

He stuck his hand into the Infinity Pouch and summoned the sphere. He held it up in front of him, unable to contain his fear. He'd never tried breaking a sphere before. He didn't know what would happen when he did. Would that memory overpower him? Would that memory linger in the forefront of his mind? Would he go crazy again?

He swallowed so loudly, he could hear and feel the saliva from his mouth pass down toward his stomach. His heart was racing so fast that he could feel his neck throb.

_It's now or never!_

Percy closed his hand into a fist and crushed the sphere. The Mist spewed out from the contraption and dissipated into the air. Magic swirled in the air around him as the physical placeholder of his memory was destroyed. His head felt funny, as if something was filling it up with water. A rush of emotions overcame him, and he stumbled back, clutching his head in dazed pain.

He could feel blood trickle down from his nose as he fell to a knee.

"Go, Percy!" his mother's voice shouted. "Go!"

The sound wasn't coming from anywhere around him, but he could hear it loud and clear. It was just a figment of his imagination, as the details of the memory came to the forefront of his mind. The grief, the fear, the anger.

His breath became laboured as the image of his mother and the hellhound flashed in his vision. For a moment, he thought he was re-living the memory through a dream. It looked so real. But when he blinked, there was nothing there. Just the distant scream of his mother as the hellhound killed her.

He felt like a little kid again. Hopeless, frail and tired.

He opened his fist, and the metal pieces of the broken sphere fell to the ground.

The visions stopped. The sound died off. The memory jammed itself back into place, throbbing like a freshly-opened wound. But it was nothing more than that. Just another memory in his head, like another book on the bookshelf of Alexandria's library.

_Don't get too sentimental_, he thought. _Or you'll never complete what you started._

But it was precisely that. Every family he'd ever had disintegrated. That's all he wanted. He wanted Apollo to give him his life back. He wanted Apollo to apologize for ruining his life. He wanted Apollo to suffer some sort of consequence. Most of all, he wanted to love and be loved.

If he couldn't have that, he would make sure no one else had it. Even if it meant tearing his soul to pieces. Even if it meant destroying everything.

* * *

They spent a few days in Percy's home.

Xanthe thought it was a pretty cozy place. If she was a normal mortal, she could see herself living here. There was enough to do, whether it was out on the field or inside the building itself.

She sat on the ground, leaning back against the wall and watching as Leon and Thanas duelled.

The two of them parried back and forth, using wooden swords to practice, careful not to severely injure each other. Leon was, evidently, the better swordsman. She hadn't seen Leon train before, and it was interesting to watch him fight. He was fleet of foot and strong. If there were any weaknesses in his fighting stance, she couldn't tell. Thanas was already better than most campers, but Leon was even better.

She thought it was good that Thanas was fighting someone better than him. It would help him focus. He'd been a little unstable after Ionna's death. He looked colder, if that was possible. Out of the three of them, he had been the least disturbed by what Percy saw out east.

Percy was over by the back entrance, packing up the final batch of supplies for their journey to Constantinople.

Watching him do mundane tasks like cleaning and cooking made him seem a lot more human. She couldn't imagine the trauma of living through something as terrible as what they saw in that misty image. She figured she'd probably go insane and lose all sense of herself.

A part of her felt angry for him. If he really was cast away by the gods for something as simple as fighting at Troy, she could see why he'd become so angry. It helped that she also didn't like Phoebe. Even though Phoebe must have known more about Percy than they did, she came across as confrontational.

She thought about Florian. What would he have thought? Would he have struck her down if he had the chance? She would never know. Because his soul was swept into the Underworld when she drowned the camp.

But despite that guilt, she didn't regret striking down the Eleventh Legion. Marcus had to have been in there somewhere. She could rest more easily now that he was dead.

And that all led back to Phoebe. She must have thought that they would find Percy revolting after seeing what he did to the others. But she wasn't a mortal Greek demigod. She knew nothing about the politics or the nature of the Greco-Roman relationship. She knew nothing about how they had grown up hating the Romans for everything they'd done, and were continuing to do, to helpless Greek demigods. She was a member of the Hunters, far away from society, far away from the truth of their lives.

In the big picture, perhaps peace was a better option. But, as she and Thanas had learned the hard way, laying down their weapons and hoping the Romans wouldn't strike them down was nothing but a stupid dream. Even if the hesitant among both factions stayed far from the front lines of battle, there would always be those that put themselves in a position to destroy the enemy. And executing an act of hatred would always be much easier than executing an act of forgiveness.

Regardless, she found Percy's old memory haunting and still felt like retching whenever she thought about it.

"Yield!" Leon shouted, holding the point of the wooden sword to Thanas' neck.

Thanas, for the seventh time in ten tries, dropped his weapon. "I yield."

Leon dropped his arm and let out an exhausted sigh. He jabbed the practice sword into the ground and leaned on it, catching his breath. "You're getting better. You're reading my moves a lot better now."

"You're insanely good with a sword," Thanas complimented. The son of Hades eyed him up and down. "Where did you train?"

"Thessalonica," Leon replied. "Military academy."

"I thought you lived in a village upriver?" Xanthe asked.

The son of Zeus turned to her and smiled. "We're close enough to Thessalonica that I could go down several times a week to train. I trained odd-hours. Always with mortal weapons. Never got to keep any, unfortunately. That's why I only ever had that bronze dagger to protect myself around my village."

"Well, now you've got a proper sword," Thanas said, gesturing to the ring on his finger.

Leon stared at his hand. He extended his arm and summoned the beautiful weapon, Koptos. It had such a deadly name for such an antique-style blade. But slashing swords were deadly in the right hands. She'd learned from many of the Apollo kids that slashing styles could be deadlier than the more common stabbing technique when fighting unorthodox battles.

A stab is generally aimed toward the fatal or debilitating regions of the target's body. That could be the neck, the chest, the abdomen, or even the thighs. A stab is made with the intent to puncture, open up a wound and kill.

In unorthodox battle, the Apollo kids said slashing was more to weaken an opponent before delivering the final strike. Cut the legs, the arms, anything that was exposed. The more wounds that opened up, the more vulnerable the target. If the joints were successfully targeted, some could bleed out and some could lose feeling in their extremities. It was a brutal style of combat. Not very effective at killing with a single strike, but very cruel.

Xanthe knew how to use a sword, and always kept one on her, but she was much better with a spear. It had a longer reach so that no slashing swordsman could get close enough to use that combat style on her.

"You're better than Xanthe," Thanas said. "And she's one of the best at camp."

"I mostly used a _spathion_ at the academy," Leon said. "Straight-edged. More geared toward the military. Everything was about form and technique. Add that with training in the wilderness, and you've essentially got my style. You're pretty good yourself, Thanas."

Thanas nodded, glancing over toward the burned pyre. "Ionna always pushed me. Got me to train against elite undead warriors."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them at the mention of the late daughter of Athena. They would overcome her loss eventually. But it would take time.

"The cart is ready," Percy called from the back entrance. "We're set to leave by sundown!"

Xanthe exhaled. It was time. They would be going back to Chiron and the other campers. She wasn't sure what they would think of the three of them, abandoning the group right after they had been attacked. She knew Chiron would be less than pleased at them for leaving.

"It'll be almost a month since we last saw them when we arrive," Thanas said.

"At least they're all safe," Leon pointed out. "You know, given that we effectively cleared the region of Romans."

"That's the grim truth, isn't it?" Xanthe chuckled.

Leon stared at the two of them. She couldn't see a single wrinkle of worry on his face. He looked determined, in a way. She wanted some of his optimism. It sure as Hades beat the numbing depression of living in this shitty world.

He put his arms around their shoulders. "We're going home, in a sense. Cheer up. Be happy to see all your friends again."

"That's easy to say," Thanas said. "How do you think they'll react to news of Ionna's death?"

"Not as hard as you," Leon reasoned. "And it might inspire them to fight harder. That muscular guy and his girlfriend... I'm sure they would know all about Ionna and her quest."

Xanthe almost smiled. "That muscular guy is called Alexandros. And his partner is Viviana. But they don't know everything about Ionna's quest. Only I knew."

"It was that secret, huh?"

"Yeah. Mostly because of Thanas."

"Are you blaming me?" Thanas asked.

She shook her head. "Of course not. I'm just saying..."

"Regardless," Leon said, interrupting them before they could fight, "we're family now. Don't let Ionna's death be in vain. We have to recuperate. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth and Twelfth Legions won't be as beat up as the Eleventh. They won't be so easy to kill."

Xanthe probably should've felt wary of someone she'd known for only two weeks, but she couldn't help but feel comforted by his words. Maybe her blood relatives were dead. But this was her new family, and she wouldn't let them die. Not like Ionna.

Thanas nodded and grunted. "Agreed. If they want to storm Constantinople and kill the others, we'll make it more difficult than anything they've ever faced. If they want to come to our homeland, we'll welcome them with spears and swords."

Leon smiled. "That's the spirit."

"You're way too cheerful."

"It's called optimism. Sorry if you've never heard of it as a son of Hades."

Thanas shot him a glare. "You're as crazy as crazy gets."

"Percy's the crazy one. I'm just a touch delusional."

Xanthe laughed. Not a quiet, fake, short laugh. A loud, hearty laugh. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly laughed. Thanas must've thought so too because he stared at her like she'd turned into a _mania_. Leon grinned at her, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight, as if he was admiring his success at lightening the mood.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Percy staring at them. While his mouth was set in a straight line, as neutral as an expression could be, his eyes were smiling. He looked like he was back in Babylonia, telling stories to Nabu, enjoying life as it came toward him. The demon that appeared in the Far East, fighting those Donghu nomads, was nowhere to be found.

_So he's human after all_, she thought.

Physically, he really looked like what she expected her full brother would look like. But she hadn't felt like he acted as her brother. He acted more like their leader than anything else.

Maybe Phoebe was right. Maybe Percy's ultimate goal was to destroy as many Romans as he could. It didn't matter to Xanthe. He could teach her a thing or two about the world, about fighting the Romans, about surviving. And, judging from how he'd handled Ionna's funeral, she could tell he cared. Whatever Phoebe feared wasn't true. The couple weeks of the Percy she'd seen, plus the dreams, made her feel confident that he cared about the ones he loved, even if the motivations for some of his actions may have been misguided.

"You're both insane," Thanas grumbled.

She locked eyes with Leon. Maybe insane was a good thing.

* * *

**Hope you're all staying safe through these tough times!**


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

It wasn't exactly a hero's welcome for Xanthe, Thanas and Leon, but the other campers were definitely happy to see them.

Not all of them were in the palace, but a handful had joined Empress Theodora for a little meal in one of the private gardens.

Viviana rushed up to Xanthe and wrapped her in a big hug. "Oh, gods! You're safe! We thought you were crazy, running off like that. You and Thanas both!"

Alexandros slowly walked over, putting a hand on Viviana's shoulder. He gave her a soft look. "Give the girl some space. I'm sure she's shocked to even be here."

The garden was beautiful. Flowers and plants were a rainbow of colors, bright and vibrant, and filled the air with a sweet fragrance. They must have been taken from all parts of the Empire, from Italia to Hellas to Anatolia. The grass was neatly trimmed, and Percy figured the workers who'd done it took a painstaking job to get each cut right. There was a portable table next to the fountain, covered with a clean white cloth and bearing plates of fruits and other snacks.

Percy suddenly felt the urge to grab some food, sit down and relax.

Leon introduced himself formally to Alexandros, Viviana and the others who'd joined Empress Theodora, careful not to make a poor impression. Alexandros and Viviana greeted him warily. Their first impression of the boy was him unleashing a blast of lightning so powerful it shook the earth. The two of them must have been terrified or in awe of him.

While they mingled, Percy turned his attention to the pair of half-sisters standing off to the side.

As he expected, Irene was present. He'd spent enough time with the Trio destroying the Eleventh Legion for her to get back to him about Zoë's whereabouts.

She and Empress Theodora approached him.

"Good afternoon, Percy," Empress Theodora said, bowing her head as a gesture of courtesy. "I welcome you to my husband's palace."

"No need for formalities, Theodora," he said, waving her off. "As long as you continue to protect the kids, that's enough for me."

"It's tough, but I do my best."

"I'm sure you do." He turned to Irene, who was watching him curiously. "What's the latest update?"

Irene looked almost surprised to see him. "I didn't think you'd actually retreat. You have momentum now that you and the Trio have destroyed the Eleventh. Why not continue?"

"Weren't you advocating for the halt of my plan for revenge?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "You'd always complain about how—"

"No, no." She looked relieved. "I'm glad you've returned. It's... it's good to see you."

"Are you sure?" Percy glanced at the dagger strapped to her belt. "I lost contact with three of my informants in Dalmatia and Epirus. Care to explain?"

She averted her gaze and gave the ground a sad smile. "You already noticed?"

"You work quickly, but if you happen to take down my major informants, I'm pretty sure I'm going to notice."

"Fair enough."

Theodora chuckled, giving Irene an amused look. "I told you he would know. You can't get much past Percy. After all these centuries, I figured you would have learned."

"I can get plenty of things past Percy!" Irene made a face that was somewhere between a scowl and a pout. "Just not things like this."

"It's not like I'm going to decapitate you or anything," Percy shrugged.

"I'm glad."

"I know you're still on my side." He paused for a moment, thinking back to how hostile Phoebe was to him back in Athens. "Did you make a deal with Phoebe? Are you looking for a way to contain me? 'Cause I'm not sure if I can tolerate Phoebe getting in the way of everything."

"I'm not that stupid," Irene said, shaking her head. "I made one with Zoë. She's a lot more reasonable than the hot head. Though, technically, I'm already breaking the pact. But anyway, like I told you, I'm here to balance things out. For the past how many centuries have I been trying to get you to act more like a protector than an aggressor?"

"Five?"

"And I'm not going to stop."

"How do you feel about me destroying entire legions, then? Because you sure as Hades haven't stopped me from doing that."

Irene pursed her lips. "You shouldn't find destroying the legions satisfying. You shouldn't even really be looking for revenge on the Romans themselves. Did you have to destroy the entire Eleventh? You can disband a legion. If you get the praetors and the centurions to relinquish—"

"And how likely are these Romans, who are practically on the brink of death, going to give up on the one goal they've followed since Constantine rose to power?"

She sighed. "How is destroying an entire legion any better? Just... sit back, Percy. You've come back to Constantinople. You're here to protect the remaining Greek demigods. As long as you stay here, nothing bad will happen."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Is that the deal you made with Zoë?"

"Yes," she admitted. "So just... don't."

He wondered what people saw when they looked at Irene. All the kids knew Empress Theodora was a child of Aphrodite, married to Justinian to help further the Greek cause. She was an older woman now, but she still radiated a youthful beauty. It helped that she was attended to in the royal palace. She was everything a child of Aphrodite should've been: elegant, beautiful, and well-mannered. Irene, on the other hand, was like a child of Athena whose hair and eyes had been darkened. He wondered if she scared them.

"While you are here, I do have some... bad news," Theodora said. She glanced over her shoulder. "I have a sickness. The doctors fear it might be a sort of malignant growth. My husband... I promised myself that I would tell my husband the truth before I die. If we can't figure out a cure, then I'm not sure what the future holds in store."

Percy glanced at Irene. "Did you take a look?"

Irene nodded. "The doctors are pretty accurate. There's some malignant tumor within her breast."

"Tumor?" He gave the empress a worried look. "Those are fatal. There's no cure for tumors."

"Exactly why I fear the future," Theodora nodded. "I can only do so much. My husband won't be as kind to you once I am gone. The kids... they'll have to learn how to protect themselves."

"This just keeps getting better and better," he sighed. He looked over at the Trio. "They'll be powerful enough. I just hope their mental constitution recovers."

"What happened?" Irene asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Her eyes widened. "Was it because of them that you returned? What did they see?"

"Athens," he replied. "My place."

Irene bit her lip. "People go insane watching those things. How could you show it to them?"

"It was Phoebe. Not me."

She muttered a string of curses.

"It's not like I wanted to show them," Percy snapped. He sighed again. "What's done is done."

Over by the fountain, the campers had gone silent. Judging by their expressions, Thanas had told them about Ionna's fate. Everyone stared at their feet in mournful silence, each granting Ionna a prayer. Death never felt good, but it was a necessary part of life. Learning to cope was difficult, but it was doable. Percy had seen many overcome such dark hurdles.

"I'll attend to the young ones," Theodora told them. She gave them a sad smile. "They must persevere. It is essential if we want to survive. There aren't many of us left. I'll leave you two to discuss tactical matters."

Percy bowed to the empress. "Thank you, Empress."

She nodded and walked over toward the group.

After she departed, Irene turned to Percy. "Seems like we've got a lot to catch up on. Shall we take a ride to Sykai?"

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Leaving the campers under Theodora's watch, the two walked north to Prosphorion Harbour and caught the next boat across the bay to Sykai. Other than the boat operators and two middle-class men, they were the only passengers. It must have been a slow day. Then again, the plague a decade earlier had nearly wiped out half of the city's population. That must've been difficult to recover from.

The boat glided slowly across the water, riding a gentle breeze from the south. That was the one thing Percy would never tire of. He could ride the seas for centuries and not get sick of it. It helped that it was a sunny day. Had it been raining, it may not have been so pleasant.

Irene was smiling, leaning partway over the bulwark and dipping her fingertips into the water.

"I'm surprised you aren't going to shove a dagger into my gut and throw me overboard," he remarked.

She turned to him, her smile turning into a look of curiosity. "That wouldn't kill you."

"I know."

"Then what's the point? If I'm going to drive a dagger through you, it's to kill you, is it not?"

"You're always practical, aren't you?"

"Cut to the chase. No bullshit. Yeah." She paused. "Okay, well, not _no_ bullshit. But as little as possible."

"Care to tell me how you found out about the network?"

Irene suppressed a smirk. "Revealing that to the puppet master behind the scenes would be a mistake, wouldn't it? You always told me it's safer to fail doing something alone than it is to risk betrayal."

"I'm not going to stop you."

"I'm still not going to spill."

He stared at her. She wasn't going to crack. He shrugged and leaned back. "Fair enough. At least you're being you."

"As opposed to not being me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's been a long time since you've been snarky."

"Athena doesn't appreciate it."

"I can imagine. Minerva must be a nightmare."

She curled her lip in distaste. "Oh, don't even get me started on her."

Percy chuckled. He looked out toward Sykai. They were about halfway across the inlet.

"How about the legions?" he asked. "What's their status?"

"Well," Irene started, "word should've gotten to them that the Eleventh has been eliminated. I've done my best to make it seem like it was an absolute slaughter. Few would believe four people destroyed the entire legion, but I'm sure they'd believe a team of just under a hundred, in a massive ambush. There are stragglers, but there's no point wasting the effort to hunt them down. They'll retreat back to the other legions regardless. They'll be a lot more careful in their advance. They won't want to make the same mistake as the Eleventh."

"That's good," he nodded. "With the Trio needing some training, a slow advance by them will make things smoother."

"They also don't know the location of the Greeks," she added, glancing over her shoulder back toward Constantinople. "Constantinople is the obvious answer, but the Romans have been duped before. They tried attacking Larissa before finding the camp up north. Plus, Constantinople is the most difficult to get to. If it turns out they're walking into a trap, they'll be toast. They'll want to make sure they've got the right target. Any reasonable praetor will be cautious. Even if they have scouts and informants... your network has done well to find them and cut them off before they can get the word out."

"Attacking by sea isn't an option, is it? They're not seafaring peoples."

"No. And with Justinian monitoring everything, there's no chance they can sneak an army into the city. Maybe small scouting teams, but not an army. I was thinking about your agents in the region and figured they would inform you of any abnormalities they see, including an army marching through Anatolia."

"Oh, so is that why the body count is only three? Could it have been more?"

She gave him an indiscernible look. "Maybe."

Percy shook his head in disbelief. "This is quite unlike you, now that I have a chance to really think about it."

"Is it really, though?"

He stared at her. There was no sign of dishonesty. She was, in truth, being true to herself. But he hadn't seen her this jovial since... well, since before he'd been exiled. It warmed his heart in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

"I'm just happy that you took a step back when you could have pushed forward," she said, as if reading his mind. "Both for the kids and for you. They get time to swallow the truth of what they just did and what just happened, and they can recuperate. They have to be tired. And you seem more human as a result, caring about what they think and how they feel."

"How do you know I did it because I care about how they feel? What if I did it because I understand the need for rest in wartime?"

It was a lie, and she knew it.

Part of it was watching them grieve. The raw pain and sorrow etched into their expressions as they mourned reminded him of the memory of his mother. He hadn't grieved or mourned for anyone's death in a long time. He remembered the rage of Achilles after Patroclus' death and how he'd tried to stop the Greek warrior from desecrating Hector's body. He understood what it meant to be sad and to want to lie down and never get up.

He couldn't force them to continue fighting. They wouldn't be strong enough. They would take too many risks with their emotions running high. And, moreover, Percy didn't want them to die. They still had a chance to live a great life after the war was over.

"You told me a story once," Irene said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "About a dream you had after the fall of Troy. Achilles passed on a message from Theseus. I don't remember the exact words, but he said something like 'It's impossible to get whatever you want in life or in death. Don't be like the gods. Don't be stubborn and arrogant and believe you, and only you, are right. Think about doing things for others, not just for yourself. If you try to do everything you'll end up failing. Finding someone, or a team like the Argonauts, will help stabilize you. Learn to accept all kinds of people. Disagreement will only cause destruction.' Do you remember that?"

Percy vaguely recalled the old memory. A small smile graced his lips. "_Don't pity the dead. Pity the living. We're the ones that have to suffer._"

"That too."

"I wish it was that easy, Irene," he sighed. "If it was, then I wouldn't have spent the last thousand years trying to destroy Rome. No one really understands how I feel. The gods, who've forsaken me, or any of the other mortals or immortals that have their own support group. I had no one to return to."

Irene looked away, unable to mask a look of hurt. "You had me."

He blinked in surprise.

"To be honest," she continued, "I'd always wanted to be in a team with you. I thought it'd be cool. But then you disappeared. Still, I felt confident that you would return. I would take your place and do your job while you were gone, like a substitute. And then when you returned, I would become your partner. At least, that was my dream. It didn't quite turn out that way."

"You..."

"I don't mean it any other way."

The boat docked in the harbor just south of Sykai. The vessel pulled into the dock, and the two of them disembarked. He stretched his legs to get used to the solid ground beneath them, watching as Irene did the same.

Silently, they began walking. It was aimless, but they just kept walking, making their way around Sykai's small streets. They passed by a market, several homes, a bathhouse, a brothel. They circled the fountain in the central plaza twice.

There were no words exchanged between them. There didn't need to be any words exchanged. Percy could tell how Irene was feeling just by watching her expression and body language. He was certain she could see the same.

It felt comfortable. There was no stress. He didn't have to worry about planning the next move, anticipating the next Roman strike. For just a little while, he lived in the moment, soaking everything in. He understood what Irene meant when she said she was tired of this life, but it never felt more real than it did right there and then.

"Stay in Constantinople as long as you can, Percy," Irene said suddenly, as they completed their walk of the city, arriving back at the docks just as the sun made its way down to its last stage of the day. "If there's anything that needs to be done elsewhere, I'll take care of it. I have Ariadne's string."

"Why? Because if I do something, your promise with the Hunters requires you to join them in hunting me down?"

She nodded sadly.

"We'll see," he replied, careful not to promise anything. "It depends on how things go. I'm not going to stop my revenge on Apollo. And the Romans aren't going to stop their revenge on the Greeks."

She pursed her lips. "Do what you can."

He nodded back. "I'll try."

They rode the boat back across to Constantinople. Irene gave him directions to where the campers were staying.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She pointed toward the palace. "To see my little half-sister."

"Ah, I see."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, waving at him as she began to walk away.

"Hey, Irene!" he called out.

She stopped and turned.

"Thank you. For the walk. You're a great friend."

Irene didn't hold back her wide smile. "You're welcome, Percy. I'll always be around for you."

Percy watched as she made her way to the palace, her figure disappearing into the crowd and around the bend. He smiled back, though she could no longer see him. He wasn't convinced to stop the destruction. But, maybe, it was worth enjoying the little things in life sometimes.

* * *

Chiron looked angry when they returned. Thanas should've expected it, considering they went against his orders and wishes. Still, there was that unmistakable relief in his expression because they'd returned alive. Chiron may have disapproved of their actions, but they were still his students. He'd raised them. If they died, it would be just as sad.

Leon introduced himself formally to the centaur, explaining who he was and where he came from. He added in a touch of amazement at seeing a centaur for the first time.

"So was your journey fruitful?" Chiron asked, taking a sip of his warm drink as they sat down in the main area. Chiron sat in a magical chair that acted as a container for his horse half.

"I wouldn't say fruitful is the right word for it," Thanas said, looking down at his feet.

"Successful... for what we left to do," Xanthe suggested. She glanced at him. "Although learning about Ionna's death was far from ideal."

Chiron sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. "Alas, that is the fate of those chosen by Minerva. I suspected the worst when Ionna left on her mission. Especially since she never divulged its purpose to me."

Thanas probably should've felt angry that Chiron knew and didn't try to stop Ionna, but he remembered that Chiron had been alive for a long time. He must've seen countless children of Athena leave and die, whether he tried to stop them or not. In hindsight, he shouldn't have reacted so violently toward Percy the first time they met in person. It wasn't Percy's job to die for her. Ionna went with a purpose. She died trying to help win the war. She died a hero's death.

"I don't regret what we did," Thanas told the centaur. He met his eyes. "It wasn't fruitful. But it wasn't pointless. They attacked our camp, Chiron. They've killed our kind just for being Greek, even though we have no relation to the Greeks that sacked Troy. It makes no sense to let them keep attacking us without striking back."

"I understand," Chiron said softly, pursing his lips. "I just dislike feeding Percy's hatred. He's been broken, hurt so badly it would take a miracle to heal him. Perhaps I'm idealistic, hoping that the miracle comes to light. Tactically, bringing the fight to the Romans in that context was the right move."

There was a shout and a roar of laughter from downstairs. Thanas could hear the happy shrieks of young children playing around. He thought about the lives of the children he'd ended that day at the Eleventh Legion's encampment.

_It was either them or you_, he rationalized. _Pick one._

"My mother always said war always ended in tragedy," Leon said. "She said that those who died in war would never get to see their loved ones again. And those who they are survived by will never see them smile or live anymore. Then there are those who kill and win the war, who walk down one of two paths. They either sacrifice their humanity and embrace the rage, or they fight to win and acknowledge the horrors they've committed. What do you think, Chiron?"

"Your mother touches on many aspects of war, yes," the centaur nodded. "Shall I tell you about Achilles? I believe dear Athanasios and Xanthe have heard this story before."

Xanthe perked up. "Is it the one about—?"

Chiron nodded. "Do you want to tell it?"

"Um... sure." She turned to Leon. "So... Achilles left to Troy for eternal fame and glory, right? You know the tale?"

Leon nodded.

She continued. "He fought in the war so that he could etch his name into history as one of the greatest heroes, if not _the_ greatest hero, in Greek history. He struck down enemies without a second thought. He was a ruthless killing machine. Then, when Patroclus died, he realized what loss really felt like. He went on a rampage, duelled and killed Hector, and paraded his body through the Greek camp like a sack of sand. Eventually, King Priam visited him and convinced him to return Hector's body, and the two agreed to peace while the Trojan mourned. Achilles was the embodiment of arrogance, greed and power... except, in truth, his actions were what any one of us would do if we had his power and strength. He's known as one of the greatest heroes of the ancient age, but he was also one of the most callous and ruthless of them all."

"So... the moral of the story is..."

"War corrupts, but everything you do in a war is based on self-preservation and self-interest. You fight because you believe in your cause. You fight to protect the ones you love. You fight even though you would rather be at home with your loved ones. You fight even if the world is burning around you."

"Still, there is a difference between a war and a slaughter," Chiron said darkly. His eyes went dark. "There are limits... standards you should hold yourself to when fighting a war."

"A war is fought for victory, not to make yourself feel good," a familiar voice said from the entrance.

Percy was standing there, staring at Chiron with an unreadable expression. Chiron's expression darkened, and the centaur turned away.

"I don't want to speak to you, Percy."

"Why? Because you're ashamed of me?"

Chiron didn't respond.

The atmosphere suddenly became icy. Thanas was still half-stunned at Percy's sudden appearance. He had a knack for showing up out of nowhere, like he was a wandering ghost. He made no noise when walking, Thanas noticed. He had excellent control of his weight. Thanas could've sworn he saw a giddy smile on Percy's face as he walked in before it faded into a sullen look.

"Of all people, I expected you to understand when I returned," Percy said. His voice sounded tight and restrained, like he was holding himself back from expressing all of the emotions he was feeling. "You know, even though it's been a thousand years, and I've done countless things that would land me in the Fields of Punishment, I still expected that you would've at least understood me. You think I wanted to be a warrior? A hero? The gods made me into a hero. And as soon as they got tired of it, they stripped it away themselves. At the very least, you could've been on my side. But no. It was always about staying neutral and serving Olympus. Even when you saw me suffering, going crazy, you stopped trying to help me. As if me killing a group of innocent people for the first time was the last straw."

Thanas glanced at Leon and Xanthe. This was coming out of nowhere. Where had Percy been since they arrived at the palace and what happened to him? He was never this emotional when they stayed with him in Athens for the past week.

"I'm glad you're sticking by the Trio as each of them grieves for Ionna," Percy said angrily. "Because you couldn't give a rat's ass about me, right? Irene is the _only_ one who gives a damn about me anymore. Everyone seems to want me to just roll over and die. Even fucking Zoë. Even. Fucking. Zoë!"

Chiron didn't meet his old pupil's eyes. He didn't say a word. Thanas wondered why. He couldn't discern the expression on Chiron's face, but then it hit him. Chiron, the wise old centaur, was afraid. He was afraid because he didn't know if his words would backfire on him or not. Chiron didn't know _how_ to comfort Percy, or _how_ to take Percy's side without committing to something he wasn't ready to commit to.

"Sorry." Percy apologized to him, Xanthe and Leon. "You're all probably confused. I don't blame you. So am I." He blinked a few times, like something was stuck in his eyes. "Take a break until _dies Solis_. Then we start training and preparing our defense. Irene and I will do some scouting to get a feel for how the Romans are going to advance."

Thanas looked at the other two. They looked just as speechless as he felt. What was he supposed to say?

"Rest easy," he told them, shooting them a half-hearted smile. "Enjoy the little things while they last."

Then Percy turned and left, just as abruptly as he'd arrived.

Chiron let out a heavy breath, and Thanas realized he'd been holding it.

He, Leon and Xanthe looked at each other again, trying to find a way to continue the conversation without making things awkward. But it was too late for that. Percy had already made it awkward.

"I'll take my leave for the night," Chiron told them curtly. He looked both concerned and startled. As he stood up, revealing his horse half, Thanas noticed his tail swishing from side to side excessively. "Rest. You have a difficult path ahead."

The centaur left them.

"Wow..." Xanthe slumped in her seat. "Is it just me or is the tension between those two overwhelming?"

Leon shook his head, still staring at where the two had walked off to. "No, it's not just you. Chiron's the famous trainer of heroes, right?"

Thanas nodded and frowned. "Yes, he is. But it's weird to see him so frightened. Why does he seem so afraid of Percy?"

"I think it's because while Percy's technically done nothing wrong from our point of view," Leon suggested, "the way he's going about it is... brutal. I mean, you said you saw him execute the Romans still surviving in the encampment after we took the whole thing down?"

Thanas' toes curled at the memory. It wasn't the fact that he was executing Romans. It was the fact that he was executing indiscriminately. Old and young. Men and women. Powerful and powerless. The toddler was the worst one.

But it was necessary to achieve their goal. And that was the scary part.

"Chiron has seen a lot in his life," Thanas mused. "I wonder if it has to do with how Percy's being allowed to carry on this way. I would assume my father would be less than pleased if his kingdom was overflowing with new souls. And the gods would be far from amused at their children being cut down time and time again."

"Or maybe it's because he'll kill anyone that stands in his way?" Xanthe offered.

They threw a few ideas back and forth, but it was almost like answering an impossible riddle.

But there was one thing they knew for certain based off of Chiron's reaction. Percy must have been the most dangerous demigod to ever walk the earth. Even more dangerous than Heracles.

Thanas had never seen Chiron so flustered and hesitant.

When they broke off, Leon and Xanthe went off to their respective rooms to rest. Thanas felt like he should've rested, too. He'd never felt groggier and more listless than he did those few days after Ionna's small funeral. But, for some reason, he didn't feel tired. Instead, he made his way up to the garden, sitting on the bench and staring at the flowers in the moonlight.

"They don't look quite as pretty at night," a voice said from behind him.

He turned around. It was Irene.

"I suppose we haven't had a proper introduction," she said, "but I'm not a fan of introducing myself."

Thanas nodded silently, unsure of what to say.

She took a seat next to him. "What do you feel more of? Anger or sorrow?"

He couldn't help but look away. "Sorrow."

"How angry are you?"

"I'm angry, of course," he said, clenching his fists. "I just… I proposed to her. We were supposed to get married after the war and… I know that she was doing it for all of us, to help us win the war. It just feels like I had my other half ripped from me and—"

Thanas stopped himself. Why was he divulging all of this? His feelings. His emotions. He looked into the woman's eyes. They didn't look like the eyes of someone who would betray him.

Irene smiled softly. "Don't worry. I have that effect on people sometimes. It comes with being—"

"Like Percy?"

She pursed her lips. "I don't think I'm like Percy. Why do you say that?"

"Trust." Thanas couldn't help himself. He just felt like speaking, like he was lifting a weight off his chest. "You both have this aura. You both feel trustworthy."

She gave him a wry smile. "I'd hardly call either of us trustworthy."

"Maybe not. But you feel that way."

"Huh. I didn't know that about myself. You learn something new every day."

She was a lot more casual than he thought she'd be. Her serious expression reminded him of the sort of proper Roman demeanor he'd seen in captured Romans over the years. But there was something else about her that felt distinctly Greek, as if she was a mix of both.

"Are you wondering how old I am?" Irene asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"No. But now that you bring it up, you have to be immortal like Percy. Otherwise, you wouldn't be working with him so closely. He wouldn't treat you like an equal."

She laughed softly. "Does he treat me like an equal?"

"Well, I mean…"

Her gaze was longing and wistful. "If only that were the case. Percy's difficult to please, you know. Especially with everything that's happened to him."

Thanas straightened, snapping to attention. "How much do you know?"

"The details are fuzzy at best," she said. "But I could probably tell you the big picture stuff."

"Then you know about Mei? And Nabu? And Dharma?"

Irene grimaced. "Those were the biggest ones, the ones that had the most effect on him."

A cloud passed over, obscuring the light for a moment. An ominous shadow cast itself across her face, like the haunting image of a ghoul. A cold shiver ran up his spine.

"Damn demons," she muttered. "They feed off his memories. On one hand, I can't blame them. The horrors he's faced are what they feed on. On the other hand, I wish they'd just leave him alone. Hasn't he suffered enough?"

Thanas kept staring at her.

She clenched her jaw and glared at the air around them. "At least I realized my mistake, my error. I never should have slapped his hand away when he reached out. Because if no one else grabs his hand, then he'll really doom us all. He'll really succumb to the demons that haunt his soul."

Irene turned back to him.

"You're more ready than Xanthe and Leon for the truth."

He blinked. "The truth?"

"Before it all sinks in, and before Percy convinces you to use Ionna's death as a stepping stone to ultimate destruction and hatred, you need to understand the true magnitude of the situation. You need to understand that destroying the Romans is not the end goal. That it is only part of the means by which the end will be achieved."

"What…?"

Irene produced a familiar sphere from the folds of her clothes. His eyes widened as he recognized the pattern. It was the same kind of sphere that Percy had kept all of his memories in. Except this sphere looked a little off, like it was made out of gold instead of bronze… Imperial gold.

"You will not be the guide," she said, "but you will be the leader, forging ahead through the brush. Prepare yourself, Athanasios. You might not like what you see."

She cracked the sphere open, and the Mist consumed them.

* * *

**And so begins the next phase of the story. I don't know how this phase will work out to readers. I'm not sure if I add character development and truly show how they change over the course of the story, but I hope it is alright.**

**Let me know how I can improve! Even though I've been writing on this site for years, I am not a writer and have no plans to be. Still, I'm sure there's stuff from here I can apply to my actual life, and so feedback is always welcome (though plz don't rip me to shreds if you criticize). Hope you all have a good weekend!**

**_Sharky_**


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Everyone!" Alexandros boomed from the stage. "Please quiet down!"

The acoustics of the room carried his voice all the way to the back. Even the sneaky Hermes kids in the rear turned to pay attention.

When the room was silent, the son of Ares continued on. "I know this is sudden. We've brought everyone in from all sections of the city into this tiny, cramped room. It's not ideal. But we need as many people as we can gather here tonight. Tonight marks the night where we begin our conquest, to regroup and fend off the Romans."

A few people jeered, cursing the Romans and cheering for their deaths.

"Thanas, Xanthe and Leon!" Alexandros announced. "Come up here."

Leon hesitated, but decided to follow Xanthe as she made her way over. Thanas was already at the front of the room. He stepped up onto the stage, his expression serious and focused. Over the past little while, he'd gotten to know the old campers better. One thing that he'd found out was that most of them were actually afraid of Thanas. Maybe being the son of Hades gave him that kind of reputation. But he could feel the crowd hold its breath as everyone's eyes focused on him.

Xanthe stood next to Thanas, and Leon flanked her other side.

He could see Percy and Irene standing in the shadows, watching them expectantly. He wondered what they were thinking.

"These three," Alexandros told the crowd, gesturing to him, Thanas and Xanthe, "took down an entire legion!"

A cheer went up from the audience, led by the Ares kids.

"Granted, they were injured from their battle with us, but that makes it no less of a feat."

More cheering. More applause.

"But they also bring unfortunate news."

Alexandros looked at them expectantly, as if waiting for one of them to say it.

Xanthe put a hand on Thanas' shoulder. When they locked eyes, she gave him a firm look and a nod. Thanas turned to Leon, catching him off-guard. Was the son of Hades looking for affirmation from him? For a moment, he felt proud, like he had been accepted by the leader of the group. He shot Thanas an assuring smile. Not happy enough to ignore the truth, but not sad enough to kill his spirits.

Thanas set his mouth in a hard line and lifted his head to address the crowd.

"Ionna, daughter of Athena, left several months ago on a secret mission to help us win the war. This mission was not commissioned by Chiron. Nor was it mentioned to Alexandros or Viviana. I know many of you would have had your own thoughts about where she had gone. But, put simply, she was given a quest by the Roman goddess Minerva."

A wave of whispers came over the crowd.

"Xanthe knew more about it than I did. Xanthe was the only one Ionna trusted with the news. She went on a journey to find the lost statue of Athena, the _Athena Parthenos_. That particular legend... is true."

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. A hush fell over the crowd as many seemed to come to the realization of what happened.

"Ionna was... unsuccessful." Thanas' voice wavered, and he took a brief pause before continuing. "Her body was given to us by... by Thanatos. She could not obtain the _Athena Parthenos_."

Ionna must have been a respected figure at the camp. Leon couldn't see a single person who wasn't sad or angry. A couple of the Athena kids were in tears, even ones that had heard the news before. The unclaimed were scattered amongst the others, but even they seemed to respect what she had done for the camp. The newcomers, who must have joined in the months after she left, hung their heads in sorrow. He wondered if they felt the same way he did; Ionna must have been a good person to have touched all the older campers in the way that she did.

Thanas looked like he was on the verge of breaking down again. He turned away from the crowd, looked up at the ceiling, and began to blink the tears out of his eyes.

Both Alexandros and Viviana went over to try and comfort him. Xanthe looked defiant and angry, like she was ready to kill a contingent of Romans.

Leon could see the angry people in the crowd, likely muttering curses under their breath, vowing to destroy the Romans and avenge Ionna's death.

Percy, Irene and Chiron were all staring at him, as if waiting to see what _his_ reaction would be.

Swallowing his fear, he took a step forward and raised his hand.

A good portion of the audience turned their gazes toward him, watching hesitantly and suspiciously. He was the new guy around, and he knew he had to earn their trust. He wasn't sure if he could do it, but he would try his best.

Even though not everyone was listening, Leon started to speak. "Hi, everyone. I'm... not sure if all of you know me. I don't think I've been able to meet everybody, actually. Anyway, for those of you that don't know, my name is Leon. I'm a son of Zeus. If you remember the sudden thunder and lightning that day the camp was attacked, that would've been me."

More heads turned his way. He could even feel Xanthe and Thanas turn their attention toward him, even though he couldn't see them.

"I'm new here, much like many of you were at one point," he continued. "I'm not sure I understand the full extent of the hatred between you guys and the Romans. As we were fighting the Eleventh Legion, I had moments where I hesitated. Was I really supposed to be fighting them? Were they as evil as I thought they were?"

He saw a few angry faces in the crowd.

"But what I do know is that they found me, where I was hiding and training, and intended to kill me. Even though I'd had little to no exposure to the Greco-Roman rivalry. I'd never had a demigod tutor or instructor. And they still wanted to kill me."

He saw Chiron's unreadable expression. Was the centaur judging him? Did the centaur trust him? Was Chiron wondering where he was going with the speech? In all honesty, Leon had no idea himself. He just felt like speaking, getting the weight off his chest. He wanted to let them know about himself and his journey.

"Alexandros made it sound like we fought triumphantly and valiantly, like we're heroes for killing over a hundred people. It wasn't that easy. We didn't charge in there and cut them down. We had plenty of help from Percy, who was the one that delivered many of the final strikes in the end. Truthfully, had it not been for the fact that the Romans had suffered significant losses when attacking the camp, and the fact that they idiotically split up to chase us, and the fact that they had set up their encampment on the shore of an enormous lake, we wouldn't have destroyed them. Without all the puzzle pieces falling into line, we wouldn't have won.

"So, when tragedy strikes, and one of your loved ones is taken from you, be careful that you don't overreact. Don't believe you can march in and kill all the Romans yourself. Most of us will make that mistake as this war continues on. Including myself. You can hate the Romans, but you don't have to be stupid. If you act only based on emotion, you increase the risk of getting yourself killed. And, in doing that, you subjugate the loved ones _you_ leave behind to the same cruel fate you endure now.

It wasn't meant to be a grand speech. He was just speaking from his heart. There was no moral to that speech. Just a genuine plea.

There was some applause from the crowd.

He caught Percy's gaze. He couldn't tell what the immortal warrior was thinking, but he held his gaze. He didn't want to back down. He knew Percy wanted them to follow his lead. Leon wanted Percy to know that they would work _together_. They wouldn't blindly follow orders.

Percy turned and left, leaving a resigned-looking Irene to chase after him.

Chiron watched Percy leave with a conflicted expression.

"Don't worry, Leon," Alexandros told him, clapping Leon's shoulder. "We're not going to charge out blindly. We have a plan in place."

"Then the stage is all yours."

Alexandros stepped to the front and began to explain the plan, but Thanas spoke up before he had a chance to listen in.

"Thanks, Leon." Thanas took a shaky breath. "Thanks. That's good advice."

Leon nodded sadly. "I wish I could follow my own advice."

"You're pretty level-headed. You won't crack so easily."

"If only..."

Xanthe grabbed their hands to comfort them. "Hey, we're in this together. That's got to count for something, right?"

The three of them smiled at each other.

_There's no need for you to worry, Percy_, Leon thought. _Maybe we won't attack the legions right now, but we'll prepare. We'll fight them one day. But we have to be ready first. I won't go out on your terms._

Leon hugged both of his new friends.

_I'll go out on my own._

* * *

"Percy!" Irene called out after the son of Poseidon. "Stop!"

She followed him as he marched up toward the prison.

He went inside without a single glance at the guards. Not that they would bar him from entering, of course. Still, he looked like he was ready for a rampage. She cursed, twisting the ring on her finger and preparing to summon her sword, the original version of Leon's blade Koptos.

Percy descended the steps and stopped in front of one of the cells in the private area.

"Let me in," he told the guards.

"Percy, wait!"

They opened the cage, and Percy stepped inside. She shot the guards a glare as she followed him into the cell.

Sitting on the floor was a helpless Roman, perhaps in his early twenties, dressed in prison attire and chained to the corner of the room. He looked up bleakly at Percy.

Without warning, Percy drew the dagger form his belt and drove it through the Roman's neck.

The Roman's eyes bulged. Percy tore the weapon free, and the Roman fell to the floor, as good as dead.

"What in Athena's name...?" Irene stared at Percy incredulously. "What was that?"

"Eliminating what is no longer useful," Percy said. He knelt down and closed the Roman's eyes. "I'm okay with Leon wanting to wrestle control away from me. Soon, he'll realize that his methods will be fruitless."

"I thought you said you'd stay here as long as you could."

He clenched his jaw. "Three years. That's the longest I'll play along."

"Percy..."

"That's _final_."

She felt a wave of disappointment wash over her, followed by another wave of frustration and anger. "Why do you have to think you need to have control of everybody? You don't own them. They're their own selves!"

"Then what do I do?" he shot back angrily. He took a threatening step toward her. "Let the Fates control everything I do? Haven't you seen enough by now to realize that they all want me to suffer for eternity? I'd rather piss them all off and let them kill me than bow down and surrender!"

"Why can't you just take a break for once?" she snapped. She took a step toward him, reciprocating his advance. "Do you want the Hunters to hunt you down that badly?"

"They can try to hunt me if they want. They'll never catch me."

"I hate this side of you! How many times do we have to have this argument?"

"Blame Apollo!"

"I already do! That doesn't excuse you from all the pain and suffering you've caused!"

Percy stepped forward, his eyes red with rage. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her back against the grates of the cell. A painful flash went off in her head, like the missing memory of her past exploding. He spat words at her, likely a string of curses, but she couldn't hear anything other than a muffled buzz.

She blinked and, when she opened her eyes, she was standing in the middle of the cell, chest heaving like she was out of breath, staring at a stunned Percy. There was a dagger embedded in his shoulder, blood oozing from the wound. The guards outside the cell were staring at the two of them, dumbfounded.

"Oh, gods..." The anger and fury dissipated immediately as she rushed forward. "Percy, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Percy didn't look angry anymore either. He wasn't even looking at the dagger in his shoulder. He was staring at her face as if he'd broken out of a trance.

He stepped forward and embraced her. He struggled to move his bad shoulder, but he held her close. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. After what you went through with Dei—"

"Don't say his name," she interrupted, feeling her chest seize up. "Not right now. I..."

"Sorry..." he said breathlessly. "I'm sorry."

She put her forehead to his other shoulder, leaning on him for support and trying to catch her breath.

She hated these episodes. It felt wrong. She didn't want to hurt Percy in blind rage. She was afraid that she would accidentally kill him, or he would kill her to defend himself. Unlike Percy, she wasn't a magic user. And Hecate hadn't been so kind as to remove the whole memory. Her toes curled every time she remembered how that man had pinned her so that she'd been unable to fight back, how he'd numbed her senses using exotic herbs and plants. In these episodes, she could never control herself. She'd killed several people because of them. Fortunately, Thanas wasn't one of them.

Irene pulled away and looked at his injured shoulder. "You're not going to be in any shape to fight anytime soon."

"I was planning on training the Trio," he said, giving her a pointed look. "Thanks for this."

"Well, you should know by now that I... I—"

"Snap?"

Her shoulders slumped. "Yeah..."

Percy pursed his lips and sighed. He grabbed the hilt of the dagger with his free hand and slowly slid the blade out from his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm used to it. I overreacted as well."

She helped him wrap up his wound.

There were many things that she wanted to say to him. Some of them were related to the guilt she felt about stabbing him. Other things weren't quite so pleasant. But, regardless of how she felt about his actions, she didn't want to provoke him.

"I meant what I said, though."

Irene looked up at him. His expression was grim.

"I have a plan. Three years is all I'll give them. If the Trio can't do it in three years, then I'll do it myself."

She clenched her fists, restraining herself. She couldn't afford to fight back. Not if she wanted to keep his tentative trust.

"I might have to push back the meeting given my condition." He gestured to his shoulder. "But we're going to meet up with Antonius. The one I told you about."

Irene's anger turned into confusion and curiosity. "The ex-praetor?"

Percy nodded.

"Are we going to... act again?"

He smiled. "Just like old times."

She recalled the last time they'd gone undercover. They'd played old rivals during the Macedonian War, uniting as "spies" for the Romans because they were "sick and tired of their rulers." She watched him carefully. It was hard to discern any hidden intent in his expression. Percy had worked hard to remain unreadable. He had to be good at acting in order to do the things he had done. It wasn't impossible to read his expression, but she couldn't figure it out this time.

Antonius was a former praetor of the Fourteenth Legion, who now worked as a member of Justinian's advisory council. The ex-praetor was based out of Tarsus, down by the old home of the Phoenicians. She could tell where he was going with the meeting. He must have heard it from the other Roman that he'd killed the other day, the son of Apollo.

Irene took another look at the dead Roman at their feet. A pity. A life wasted because of the stupid war.

"Let me get fixed up," Percy said. "Then I'll gather the Trio and we can have a brief meeting. It'll be their first mission. How well can they act? I'll let you know where and when we meet."

"You're going to make this as messy as you can, aren't you?"

He gave her an ominous smile. "The more chaotic, the better."

After he disappeared up the stairs, Irene took another look at the dead Roman and then up at the ceiling.

"I swear, Apollo. You better apologize to Percy soon. Don't be such a little bitch. You're making me hate you as much as the Hunters hate men. And this even considers all the terrible shit Percy's done. Man up. Or you're going to kill us all."


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"It's Antonius!" the son of Apollo shouted. "Please, stop!"

Percy lifted the red hot coal off the boy's groin with metal tongs. "Antonius? Tell me more."

"He... he's a former praetor," the Roman rambled. "He's now working for Justinian. He's leading the attack. Our spies have been dying since last week. He knows the Greeks are establishing a foothold. He wants to investigate, see how the Greeks are building up their defenses."

"Continue."

"That's all I know! I swear!"

Percy clucked his tongue. "I wouldn't call that information very useful. It's pretty vague."

"Please, I'm begging you! I'm telling you everything I know! The Thirteenth and Fourteenth aren't going to attack right away. They're scared because of what happened to the Eleventh. They want to take things more slowly. They're gathering in Tarsus. If you can catch Antonius in Bursa, you can take him down. He's the brains of the operation!"

Percy looked up at Theodora's men. They shrugged. It wasn't news that Antonius was spearheading the movement. It _was_ news that Bursa was on his path. It was the perfect launch pad into Constantinople. A plan began to form in his mind.

"Are you convinced?" the son of Apollo asked.

Percy gave the boy a cold smile. "You weren't that useful. But at least it's better than nothing."

Then he kicked the son of Apollo onto his back, slashed open his chest and tossed the hot coal inside.

Percy turned and walked away as the Roman screamed in agony for a little while. Then the screaming stopped. And all went silent.

The next three days passed slowly.

Usually, three days went by quicker than he could snap his fingers. But the painstaking pace at which he was waiting for his plan to unfold was frustrating. There was Irene, who'd been giving him conflicted looks ever since she'd stabbed him in the shoulder. Thanas had become increasingly secluded, as if he had something to hide. Xanthe and Leon were also more withdrawn than usual, especially since the day they addressed the crowd of campers.

Unbeknownst to Antonius, the Greeks would be launching their counterattack soon.

As Alexandros had revealed to the campers that night, they would begin fanning out of Constantinople, taking back the land they'd forfeited by retreating into the capital. Teams would head out as far as Adrianople in the west, Nicomedia in the east, and Nicaea in the south. It wasn't a bad plan. It would keep the Greeks focused on a target, and it called for a steady advance. They wouldn't be rushing out onto the battlefield like idiots and getting themselves killed.

"Can we get along until the meeting is over?" Percy asked Irene as they prepared the meal in Bursa, awaiting Antonius' arrival. "We can't afford to reveal any red flags."

Irene nodded. "I know. This is important."

"Thank you."

She looked like she wanted to say something but decided against it. She gave him a hesitant smile and went over to help Xanthe with the fire.

Percy went over to the boys, who were sitting on the chairs, each with a drink in hand. They were sweating from all the heavy lifting. From moving boxes to furniture, they'd had quite the workout. They nodded to him quietly, acknowledging his presence without having to say a word.

"Ready for this?" he asked them.

"Given that I don't know what _this_ is, I'm not ready," Leon said. "I still don't understand what we're trying to do exactly."

"We're trying to extract information while baiting the Romans into a trap," Thanas explained, sighing as if he'd been explaining for the last few hours. "Xanthe said you were smart enough to reason that I'd asked Percy to go to Rome after we destroyed the Eleventh Legion. Where's the intelligence when it comes to understanding a simple plan like this?"

Percy re-explained the plan briefly. "Irene and I are going to be using aliases to get Antonius talking. Much of the chat will be useless shit. Just dumb things rich people like to talk about. But there will be parts that I want you all to listen in on so that you can help Alexandros and Viviana prepare defenses. Eventually, the plan is to advance to Nicaea, which isn't far from here. We'll need to know how the Romans are going to proceed. We'll get a preliminary idea today, and as information comes in, we can tweak our plans."

Thanas faced him and gave him a weird look. "Just to clarify, this... acting that you and Irene are going to do... Is it going to get violent?"

Percy masked his suspicion and concern and shook his head. "No violence. Not with this man. He's not one to get violent. Even when Greeks are being slaughtered, he hates watching. He prefers to do the back end work. The stuff that people don't really see is his specialty when it comes to large-scale operations like this."

"I see."

"Well, better get to your positions since the man will be arriving soon," Percy told them.

They nodded and went off to their respective positions.

When Percy looked up at Xanthe and Irene, he saw Irene quickly avert her eyes. He looked at Thanas, who looked troubled. He suspected Irene had shown him something, but he didn't know what. Judging by Leon's relaxed demeanor and Xanthe's focused gaze, neither of them was aware of whatever Thanas knew.

It wasn't as if Thanas had become any more hesitant about fighting the Romans. The son of Hades still wanted to help, to avenge Ionna. But there was something off about how he was acting in front of Percy. And Percy couldn't figure out what it was.

Percy pushed the thought aside as one of the Ares kids standing guard jogged up to him.

"The Roman is here."

He nodded, and the guard turned back toward his post. Percy looked over at Irene.

_Is it time?_ Irene mouthed.

He gave her a curt nod.

Irene gave Xanthe a word of encouragement before striding over toward him, a determined look in her eyes.

"I might be acting as your wife in front of Antonius," she told him, "but don't get touchy. Not like that time in Sparta during the Peloponnesian War in that whore house."

"I'd prefer not to get touchy," he replied. He put an arm around her shoulders. "This is as close as I'll get."

"This is touchy."

"Not like Sparta."

"Fair enough."

Percy snapped his fingers and focused on the Mist. From that point on, until the end of the meeting, they would be known as Parthenius and Julia. He was an old legionnaire in the Twelfth Legion. She was his wife, recently married out of love rather than social status. What did they have in common? They both "hated the Greeks."

He changed their appearance, making them look a little older. He'd met Antonius before when he was a younger man. It wouldn't make any sense to appear like he was immortal.

"Let's do this," Irene muttered quietly. "To destroy Apollo."

He was a little surprised at the anger in her voice. She'd never been vocally antagonistic when it came to the gods. Even when she'd agreed to fight on his side, it never got personal. He'd always assumed it was all business. Irene was showing her true colours more naturally. Maybe she meant it when she said she was getting tired of this life, of always trying to remain neutral.

Percy grabbed her hand and met her eyes. "To destroy Apollo."

They met Antonius in the dining area, waiting by their table. The Roman was wearing his traditional dress: flashy gold armour with a bright purple cape. He was unarmed other than the armour. He'd aged a little since Percy last saw him. There were more grey hairs than he remembered.

Percy smiled and gestured toward the table. "Please, Antonius. Sit down. It must have been a long journey from Tarsus."

The Roman returned the smile. "Of course, of course. Gladly, Parthenius. First thing, as always, is identification. I know it's a pain when we know each other so well, but, alas, security is tight these days, especially with the Eleventh going under so suddenly."

Percy nodded and rolled up his sleeve, showing the legion's marks. Twelve marks for twelve years of service to the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. They'd been served centuries ago during Caesar's days, not that Antonius would need to know that.

"And you brought a guest with you...?"

"Yes, this is my wife, Julia," he introduced, providing the man with Irene's alias. "She's not a member of the legion, but she's more Roman than not. Her ancestors escaped Troy with Aeneas back in the day, though over the years they've had their fair share of, ah, disagreements."

"One thing we can all agree on is our distaste for the Greeks," Irene chimed in.

Antonius laughed, showing his own marks. "I definitely agree with that. They make the most mundane tasks tedious. You should see how many traps they set up along the way. Not that they were effective, mind you, but it made the journey rather cumbersome. Regardless, I'm happy that you agreed to meet with me. There is much to discuss."

"We're here to listen," Percy smiled.

The three of them took their seats. Percy hoped his disguise was still working. The one he made for Irene was still good, adding stress lines and wrinkles to her face and keeping her eye color blue. Her hair was freshly bleached, hiding the fact that she'd spent the vast majority of her life under the sun. Percy had known Antonius for years, and it had become increasingly difficult to trick the Roman into believing he was aging.

"How did you two meet?" Antonius asked as he peered at the menu.

The question caught Percy off guard. He glanced at Irene, who simply laughed and put a hand on his arm.

"Thessaly, of all places," she said. "I'd just arrived after visiting Ilion with my family. Unfortunately, there were only two boats that departed from Ilion the day we left: one to Thessalonika and one to Athens. My family has had a difficult relationship with Athens, and we took the boat to Thessalonika, preparing to trek over land to Epirus."

"Not much good comes from Athens," Antonius agreed with a smirk. "At least Thessalonika is up north where the Thracians once lived. They were on our side in the Trojan War."

"Exactly. Anyway, my family had just arrived in Larissa, where Parthenius just happened to be on a mission for the Twelfth. Needless to say, I saved his life."

Percy stared at her. How did she come up with a story like that?

"Oh, you know I saved your life," she teased, her eyes urging him to play along.

He snapped to attention, playing along with her. He shrugged and grabbed her hand. "Well, it was quite the first meeting, yes. We weren't exactly on steady footing at first. Theodora and Justinian were in control in Constantinople. I had more errands to run in Achaea. Julia had to go back to Brundisium with her family. We didn't see each other for a couple years, though we got in touch via letter. I always wanted to keep our relationship a secret from others considering the nature of my work."

"But you're too in love with me?" Irene joked, giving him a loving look.

He couldn't get over how good of an actor she was. The way she looked at him reminded him of the old days when the two of them were actively hunting down members of the Senate, before Rome became an empire, and long before the legions had ever walked the earth. They'd done this before. Sometimes they acted as siblings, sometimes as co-workers. Irene always played her role exceptionally well.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Perhaps I am. But it only fuels the fire within me to destroy the Greeks so that we are never threatened again."

Antonius laughed heartily. "Oh, you remind me so much of my wife and I during our youth. I have always been weak to innocent, youthful love. It's what makes me so mad when I hear of Greek raids and ambushes. The lives that they take for the silliest of reasons are abhorrent. They burned an entire city down for one woman. It's absolute madness. But they underestimated us during the days of the Republic, and they have paid dearly because of it."

"We shouldn't underestimate them in turn," Irene told him, pulling away from Percy. "They were strong enough to destroy the Eleventh Legion. Our plan of attack needs to be more cautious. We cannot let ourselves become a stationary target. It was a mistake staying at the encampment, close to a lake. But at least we know now that they have a child of Neptune."

"I agree," Antonius nodded. He rested his chin on his hand and pondered. "I don't suppose it would be easy to bait the Greeks out. They have fallen back to a central position in Constantinople, guarded by Theodora and Justinian."

"That's where we have good news," Percy said. He looked around, pretending to be worried about outside ears. "Theodora has come down with a fatal sickness. She will not last the year."

Antonius straightened in surprise. "What?"

"It will be difficult to convince Justinian to go back on his promise to his wife, but if we can... the Greeks will be expelled from the protection of the emperor. If we play our cards correctly, and be patient, the Greeks may be cast out, providing us with easier targets."

"That... that sounds..." The Roman looked like he was at a loss for words. Percy couldn't tell if he was too excited or too shocked to say anything. "But how will we convince Justinian to—"

"Julia has a way with words," Percy explained, giving Irene a smirk.

She returned it.

"That... could work," Antonius said, a plan forming in his head. "I can see how this would work. Politics or not, the praetors _must_ see reason."

Percy met Irene's eyes. It was a risky gamble, but it was a gamble worth taking. Staying in Constantinople was no way to survive. The Romans would arrive eventually. It was only a matter of time. Why not, to gain the upper hand, bait the Romans into attacking? Then the Greeks would be able to launch surprise raids and whittle down the remaining legions.

The biggest red flag was whether the Greeks could handle it. Everyone, by now, knew that Empress Theodora was in her last days. She wouldn't survive past the end of the year. But Percy wasn't sure if Chiron would train them to survive in the wild. They'd had tense conversations about moving back out into the wilderness, finding and settling in another valley. Chiron was looking into it, but it wasn't easy to move, especially with an enemy that had spies, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Constantinople, with all the Roman spies eradicated, was the only safe zone.

He and Irene let Antonius think about it as they had dinner. At the Roman's request, the two acted like a married couple, sharing food and being physically intimate. He could see the Trio, disguised as waiting staff, watching in curiosity.

It was strange. He and Irene hadn't done this roleplay since the Macedonian Wars, which were over half a millennia ago.

During these missions, he'd often think about his days with Cassandra and his days with Zoe. He wouldn't be human if he couldn't feel physical or emotional attraction to anyone in a romantic or sexual way. He'd seen men and women attracted to all kinds of people, of the opposite sex or of the same sex or of both. And while he was interested in women, things never really felt the same ever since his exile. He was afraid of attachment because he knew the Fates would snip the string of anyone who grew close to him. He could probably fill a library with the list of names of those who'd died because of him.

Irene also had that same hesitation. Kisses were fine, but much more contact than that and her eyes flickered with uncertainty, as if she was afraid of being hurt.

Maybe it was because of all the terrible scenes he'd watched, especially during sieges. Once a city fell, men raped women like they were toys to be played with. From young to old, no one was spared. Watching all those horrors desensitized him to sexual intimacy. He couldn't even think about the subject without remembering what happened to Mei... what happened to Cassandra... what must have happened to Zoë.

He suspected Irene had seen the same horrors.

"How long do you suspect we'll have to wait?" Antonius asked.

Percy hesitated. "I'm... unsure of the timeline. That might be something we figure out as we go along. But beware of sending too many spies into Constantinople. The Greeks aren't relaxed simply because they're protected by the emperor. They're, no doubt, preparing their own plan. If you can wait for the Twelfth Legion to recover, I can get in contact and see if they can surround the Greeks in the north, coming down from the Balkans."

Antonius hummed in thought. "I see. Well, keep me informed. I'll await news about our progress."

They stood, and Percy thanked Antonius for making the journey. Soon, the Roman and his guards were off, riding back south toward Tarsus.

The Trio emerged from their positions, taking off their disguises, and each let out a sigh of relief.

"So, how did you feel?" Percy asked them. "Not too bad, right?"

"Why wouldn't Antonius put a spy on you, though?" Leon asked. "On 'Julia', to make sure she's not actually an enemy. It seemed like you were introducing her for the first time."

"I've got people to handle that," Percy answered.

Leon nodded, glancing over at Thanas, as if asking for a second opinion. Thanas shrugged, as if satisfied with the situation. The son of Hades looked like he was thinking of potential plans of action to improve the Greek defense, like where to set up traps and ambushes.

Xanthe looked at the ground nervously, hands clasped behind her back. "Do you... do that often?"

Percy glanced at Irene. He wasn't sure what Xanthe meant, but Irene seemed to get it.

The daughter of Aphrodite let out a soft laugh. "It's been a while since it last happened, but it's not a very common occurrence. Sometimes we play siblings. Sometimes we play friends. It depends on the situation. The context of this encounter called for something more intimate, given that Percy's met him before."

_Oh_, Percy thought. _She was talking about _that.

"I... I see."

Xanthe looked almost too embarrassed to ask the questions that were obviously on her mind. Suddenly, Percy felt hot. He glanced at Irene, who looked as awkward as he felt. It wasn't something he really wanted to elaborate on.

Thanas was suddenly giving him a suspicious look. Percy wondered if Thanas had had dreams about him and Cassandra, or him and Zoë. He hated Morpheus for showing his past to them. Some things were meant to be forgotten or hidden forever.

He reached over and put a hand on his half-sister's shoulder. "Leave tactics like this to us. You should find someone you genuinely love, who genuinely loves you back, win this war, and then live out a happy life. That's the goal, right?"

Xanthe's gaze flickered toward Leon in hope, then to Thanas in regret and despair.

"I can help out," Thanas said. His posture was tall and proud, and his voice held steady, but his eyes wavered for just a moment. He had yet to recover from losing Ionna. "Whatever it takes to win the war."

"Leave it to us," Irene repeated, shaking her head knowingly. "You just need to think of strategies. Lead the Greeks. You're the most experienced leader there. Alexandros and Viviana may command authority and respect, but you understand the Romans more than you think. You'll find it within yourself. You'll be the one leading the charge on the battlefield."

Percy nodded. "You three understand what it means to work in enemy territory now, right? It's dangerous and built on trust. It's easy to us, but it won't be to you. Now that you have a taste of how the Romans are going to move around, you can do preliminary scouting. But _always_ stay hidden. You aren't ready to have head-on encounters without killing Roman scouts. And we are nowhere close to being ready for a final fight."

"Glad to see you have some reason for once," Irene joked.

"Don't be so happy about it," he grumbled.

Irene let out a small laugh before returning to her typical, serious demeanor. "In any case, you all know very well that the Thirteenth and Fourteenth together are much stronger than the weakened Eleventh. You ambushed the Eleventh in their own encampment, right along the lakeside. You had the advantage of surprise and fatigue. Now, that's gone. It's impossible to kill everyone, so a few of the stragglers will have escaped. They know what they're up against, and they're going to warn their leaders."

"Your job isn't to kill everyone," Percy added. "That's my job. You guys just need to weaken them to the point where I can hunt them down without any chance of facing an army and being outclassed. Got it?"

The Trio mumbled in assent.

"Good. Let's pack up and head back to Constantinople."

The three of them went to work, cleaning up all the materials and packing up the things they needed to bring back.

Percy turned to Irene and snapped his fingers. The Mist obscuring her face disappeared, and she was back to her young, youthful self.

"You're back," she told him.

"Good. It was hard to keep it up."

"You're powerful enough. It shouldn't be that hard."

"Getting the details right is hard."

"What details did you add?"

He examined her face. "Wrinkles, fold lines, birthmarks. Facial reconstruction for aging. I just took what I imagined you would look like as an older adult. Still stunningly beautiful, but noticeably older."

"So, essentially, it's your imagination."

"Essentially."

"Could you imagine me in whatever manner you wished?"

"Changing a whole person is hard. You have to shroud them completely in Mist. And it works best when other people _want_ to believe what they're seeing. Like, most men would love to see you scantily clad. Or nude."

She scowled immediately. "That's not something I would wish for. And I would like to think that you don't often attempt to imagine that."

"I don't," he chuckled. "But you seemed to be full of jokes today. Thought I'd shoot back."

"I don't cross the line," she huffed, looking away from him and crossing her arms.

He smiled. He wouldn't bet against her in a fight if a man tried to hit on her. She was stronger than she looked, both physically and mentally. He admired her genuineness. He wished he could be as open as her.

Emotions were a hindrance in battle. He needed to be calm and collected to focus on the fight and focus on winning. But, in a situation like this, where he was just chatting casually, he felt compelled to open up. It had been too long, and recently he'd begun to think it had become suffocating.

"Thank you, Irene."

She glanced at him.

"For sticking by me. You're right. I had _you_ all this time. I'm glad you understand me, even if we disagree on certain things."

Irene sour mood dissipated. Her lips curled up in a smile, a genuine smile. "You're welcome." She sighed and looked up at the clear night sky. "I guess... Athena saved me for this. To be a conduit between you and Zoë. She can't help you from her position as a Hunter, so I do it instead."

"No," he replied, staring up at the sky with her. "You're not a conduit for anyone. Once Apollo either dies or comes to me, begging me to stop and promising by the River Styx never to harm me or the ones I love again, I'll withdraw my stake in the war. I'll live peacefully, training heroes like I intended to. You can join me. I could use a partner."

"I'd be glad to accept," she said, "though I don't think Apollo disappearing or begging will happen... ever. Still, I understand where you're coming from. My revenge was nowhere near as grand as yours. But I still went through with it. If you're evil and terrible, then so am I. I might be tired of all the fighting, tired of seeing everyone die around us, but... for you, I want Apollo to realize his mistake."

Percy remembered what Zoë told him about Irene's past. He never liked Deiphobus. Shaking himself to the present, knowing she wouldn't appreciate being reminded of her suffering, he put a hand on her shoulder, "See, you're not a conduit. Zoë would never think that way."

"I suppose you're right. But she still cares for you, even if she can't or won't show it."

"Then give her my thanks the next time you meet up with her."

"Will do."

"But... this is for _you_."

He stepped forward and gave her a brief, warm hug. She was his student once. She'd learned from him. He was a terrible teacher, a terrible role model. Yet she had still grown into a magnificent woman. One that he was jealous of. He was proud of her, in a way.

When he pulled away, he noticed she was staring at him like he was crazy.

"I'm proud of you," he said.

Irene blinked a couple times before breaking out into a wide smile. "Am I supposed to be your daughter or something?"

"Well, technically, I have kind of slept with your mom before."

Her smile disappeared. "I didn't need to be reminded of that."

"But, hey, it was rape so I don't really count it. And she already apologized for it, since it got me exiled. I forgave her."

Irene was quiet, likely still disgusted thinking about the possibility of him and her mother sleeping together.

"We should probably help pack up, shouldn't we," he said, noticing the other three were doing everything by themselves.

"Right... yeah..."

He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "You sound excited."

Her eyes cleared and she gave him a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, I'm _so_ excited."

"Is Leon rubbing off on you?"

"_You've_ rubbed off on me, you numbskull."

He just laughed.

But it was fun. Having Irene actually next to him instead of communicating via Iris message was a different kind of tale. There was no doubt that she was working on something behind his back. But so was he. Neither of them minded despite knowing the other's intentions.

He just hoped the peace would last.


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Thanas never anticipated how complicated the whole war effort really was. Until he'd met Percy and Irene, it had always been a war between two groups that hated each other. Sure, he knew it stemmed from the Trojan War, but he had no idea of the true magnitude of it all.

It hadn't always been all-out war. There had been periods of peace. But, in the end, Percy had orchestrated nearly everything. _He_ was the one who gave the Romans power. _He_ was the one that helped the Christians rise to power in the east. It wasn't like the war wouldn't happen without him, but he was dictating its pace. Everyone else had joined along for the ride.

Except Irene.

The memory she showed him in that golden sphere of hers was almost too much for him to bear. He didn't want to think about it; it made him angry. But it continued to creep into his thoughts, reminding him of the cruel nature of power. There was a reason why Irene was fighting on their side. The things that the Trojans did to her were horrifying beyond belief.

But he understood why Irene showed it to him. It was to show him that she, too, had been broken in the past. Yet, in spite of it all, she fought to stay above it. She fought to live as honourably as she could. Although she told him that she'd done things people could condemn her for and that she was far from perfect, she did what she had to do to save as many as she could.

She told him that, in the end, the fact that Greeks and Romans were dying wasn't the problem. Even without intervention, without Percy's guidance, the Romans would come to dislike the Greeks anyway. Especially for what they did in Troy. The real story was the hero that had fallen from grace.

They needed to defeat the Romans to right the imbalance of power. They needed to eliminate the unfair advantage and protect their own kin. But that was only one step in the plan to restore Percy's status as a hero of Olympus.

Thanas wasn't sure what to think. This whole time, he'd thought Percy was fighting this war to protect the Greeks. But Irene had showed him that other memory of hers, the one where she'd met him not long before Caesar's assassination. It was never really about protecting the Greeks. It was about destroying the Romans.

He spent a few nights pondering why Irene felt Xanthe and Leon weren't ready for the truth. He figured she wanted Leon to assimilate more. She probably wanted him to feel like he belonged here before revealing that defeating the Romans wasn't the end goal. Or was it the fact that neither Xanthe or Leon would try to save someone they had little connection to? Why was he the optimal choice?

He didn't know the answer to any of that. He just hoped Irene knew what she was doing.

Thanas sat in the meeting room, arms crossed, barely listening in on the conversation around him. News had spread amongst the campers that Empress Theodora was actually sick and that they needed to launch their counterattack sooner rather than later. Alexandros and Viviana were doing their best to calm everyone down and contain the rumours before they got out of hand. No one was supposed to know about her condition, especially not any potential Roman spies.

The two had called in the head representative of each god or goddess to figure out how to explain that to the other campers. As the only son of Hades, Thanas didn't really need to be a part of the conversation. He was just there because Alexandros and Viviana were supposed to go over the plan for the first step of the counterattack right after.

Thanas wasn't all that surprised Empress Theodora was sick. It was one of his first impressions of her. She seemed a lot more frail that she probably should have been.

Irene stepped into the room, and immediately the group went silent.

Thanas didn't know much about her, other than the fact that she was a child of Aphrodite and the fact that she'd been there at Troy when it fell. But she carried herself like she was a war commander, not a daughter of the love goddess. Then again, if someone went through what she did, it would be hard not to be jaded.

"Carry on," she told them, making her way to a seat in the back of the room.

Alexandros cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "As I was saying, we need to keep a close eye on everyone. Any information that gets leaked out can be used against us. We aren't safe here. Constantinople may be safer than being out there in the wild, since we can use the mortals as a sort of shield, but that doesn't mean you can't be murdered in the streets by Roman spies. They can be anywhere."

"But what do we do after Empress Theodora dies?" one of the Apollo kids asked.

"We're working on a plan," Alexandros responded. He hesitated. "We'll have something worked out by the end of the year. Hopefully... hopefully we're given that much time."

"You have until the Summer Solstice," Irene spoke up. "She'll be dead by then."

Alexandros glanced nervously at Viviana. Neither of them seemed entirely sure of what to do. Chiron, who was usually present during such meetings, was gone. He'd gone off to search for a new home somewhere in the wilderness. That effectively made Percy and Irene the de facto leaders of the evacuees.

Most were inclined to follow Percy, simply because he was a man. It was easier to follow a man in their society than it was to follow a woman. Unless it was Empress Theodora, but that was because Emperor Justinian truly loved her and valued her. She could keep them safe no matter what.

"We shouldn't rush anything," Thanas spoke up.

Everyone's eyes turned to him. He didn't like the attention but he had to say something. Alexandros and Viviana clearly didn't know where to go.

"We'll take our time to execute our plan," he continued. "That's all we can really do. Better safe than sorry."

"What about when Theodora is dead?" the son of Apollo countered. "Will Justinian still protect us?"

"There's no guarantee that she can even protect us now, not to mention after she dies." Thanas stood, knowing that he would appear more powerful if he looked bigger and taller than the others. "If we only have until the Summer Solstice, that's far less than a year. What will Justinian think when a bunch of mysterious misfits show up and then his beloved wife dies just months later? He won't be fond of us. He'll probably blame us for her death. But that doesn't mean we're ready to just go out there and fight. We must prepare for a reality where Justinian kicks us out, but we have to act like we live in a reality where this is our only safe haven."

"Then what do you suggest we do to prepare?"

Thanas glanced at Irene. She was watching him expectantly. He sighed and stared at each and every single person in the room. "All of us, even the ones who don't care for fighting, have to learn to survive. Whether that means learning to fight. Whether that means hardening your mental constitution. Whether that means sacrificing your body. You have to learn to survive."

"That's a lot harder to do than it is to say, Thanas," Alexandros pointed out.

Vivana frowned. "But he's right."

Alexandros turned to stare at her. "Still, it's—"

"If we have to steal to survive, we'll steal," she interrupted. "If we have to kill to survive, we'll kill. If we have to sacrifice our own life to let ten others survive, we'll sacrifice."

"The Romans don't care if there's one of us or an army of us," Thanas added. "They'll try to kill us either way."

"Not all of them," Irene said. "Not all the Romans believe killing Greeks is the answer. The same as how not all Greeks believe it's right to kill all Romans. Choose your battles. Don't let the battles choose you. If you make the choice, you can control the outcome. If the choice is made for you, then you must follow the path you have been provided. Sometimes the right choice is to stay your blade. Sometimes the right choice is to never stop swinging."

"The point is that none of us can live a comfortable life." He leaned on the table. "Look at the person on your left. Then look at the person on your right. It could be tomorrow, or the day after, or a few months down the line, but there's no guarantee that these people will be by your side when the future arrives. We need to reach a point where we can look to our left and look to our right and still feel like we have a chance at surviving when we see no one. Each and everyone one of us, including those that aren't present in this meeting room today."

It was a grim truth, but the group seemed to understand.

"I know most of you would rather trust Alexandros and Viviana with deciding our livelihood and our future, but I'm a part of this fight, too. If there's one thing that I've studied for, it's this very situation. Ionna... Ionna died trying to give us an advantage in this war. I'm going to do the same. You can follow me or you can stay here and cower. Regardless of the decision you make, regardless of whether you are by my side, know that I will do what it takes to destroy the Romans. Because I have the power."

"And how will you use that power?" Irene asked.

"Our first course of action," Thanas replied, meeting her eyes, "is to rid Constantinople of Roman spies. That plan begins now. And here's how we're going to do it."

* * *

Zoë stared out at Constantinople. "So this is how you're going to play, Irene?"

She paused, letting the warm breeze pass over her exposed arms.

"So be it."

The Champion of None wanted to play by her own rules. Still, she wasn't technically deviating from the plan. She'd just switched their roles. Instead of the Hunters trapping Percy in one location, it would be Irene. That would leave the Hunters the role of hunting down Percy's network of informants. Fair enough, Zoë thought, since the Hunters were meant to _hunt_. Trapping game in a corner and waiting made for a boring hunt.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Phoebe quietly sneaking off toward Sykai. Zoë held her tongue and watched as her right-hand woman disappeared into the night.

Zoë sighed. Phoebe had been restless ever since Zoë found her in Athens. She was still fuming about Percy, angry that Zoë had to go on a stupid mission with him. Zoë didn't mind. She figured the gods were trying something, anything, to get Percy to return to normal. But Zoë didn't have the confidence to rectify his wrongs. She felt powerless.

Maybe it was better that Irene was holding Percy down.

Zoë wouldn't be surprised if Phoebe wanted to go into Constantinople to kill Percy herself. She sighed in resignation. Better to let Phoebe think that she was acting behind Zoë's back than for Zoë to acknowledge it. That way she wouldn't have to deal with the fallout. She wanted no part of it.

Percy would be stopped. If that meant the Hunters were in charge of destroying his network, so be it. Zoë felt more comfortable neutralizing unfamiliar targets. It made her feel less guilty.

"What a dark and cruel way to think about it," she muttered.

"About what?" a voice asked from behind her.

Zoë turned to face Helene, who was watching her curiously.

"Looks like we're changing our course of action," Zoë said. She glanced toward Sykai, where Phoebe had disappeared off to. "I hope the girl doesn't wander off too far. We're going to go after Percy's network of spies and informants instead."

Helene frowned. "But Irene agreed to the deal where we—"

"It doesn't matter what she agreed to. She'll do what she wants. And, as of right now, I trust myself even less than her when it comes to a task involving Percy."

"Then we'll—"

"Follow _my_ orders," Zoë said with finality. She looked at the old Hunter in the eyes. "Listen, I get it. You don't like Percy. Most of the Hunters dislike him. But if you try to attack him, without me leading the charge, he'll slaughter you all. If Irene is right, that is. If Percy still cares about me, then the only way we can even get close to him is if I am there. I'm not willing to risk that, and I need time to prepare myself to fight him."

Helene clenched her jaw. Zoë could tell she didn't like it. But orders were orders, and the old Hunter respected them.

"But, if you and Phoebe feel strongly enough about it... pretend to obey me." Zoë turned back to face Constantinople. "I can't see anything that goes on behind my back."

She hoped Helene would understand her hint.

There was a brief pause before Helene responded: "Of course, Zoë."

"Good. You're free. Tell the other girls of our new plan."

"Yes, Zoë."

She could hear Helene turn and march back to the campsite.

Zoë knew she was playing a dangerous game, but if they had to stop Percy, she couldn't do it herself. She wasn't prepared, mentally, to fight Percy. She was angry with him, with everything that he'd done over the years. She wanted to stop him from resorting to his contingency plan. But her body wouldn't comply with her mind.

"Fuck it," she swore under her breath. "The pupil has become the master. Irene, I hope you know what you're doing. I'll be back to check. If Percy lays a foot outside the Capital Region, Phoebe and Helene will know. They'll be ready to strike. And, unlike me, they'll be looking for a kill."

* * *

Xanthe clenched her teeth as the storm swirled around her.

"Keep focusing!"

"I've held it for a whole hour!" she said through gritted teeth. "I can't... manage it for much longer..."

"It hasn't even been a tenth of an hour," Percy replied.

"Well, it feels like it's been an hour!"

She drew from all her remaining strength to maintain the storm. It was one thing to summon a storm in battle with the adrenaline flowing through her. It was another to maintain the storm over a significant length of time in a low-stress situation. Like most sea storms, it worked best when it was feeding off warm waters. In other words, the more active and more energetic she was, the stronger and wilder the storm.

Xanthe had asked to learn from Percy after hearing from Thanas about what he'd done to the Eleventh Legion. She wanted to be able to do that in future battles.

But she couldn't hold on any longer. She lost her concentration, and the storm died.

Percy walked up to her, grinning with his arms crossed.

"Stop smiling like that," she grumbled. "You make me feel like I'm powerless."

"Trust me, I don't really understand it either," a voice said from behind her.

Xanthe whirled around to see Leon approaching her. She suddenly felt more self-conscious, and her senses went on double-time. "You were watching?"

"Pretty hard to miss a swirling storm," he said with a small smile. He pointed upward. "Especially when you're looking down from up there."

"Practising your control of the winds?" Percy asked.

Leon nodded. "Thanas said my power is still too raw. Though, I'm not sure what that means."

Percy looked at him up and down for a moment, as if analyzing him to figure out how he could best clarify the confusion. "Hm, tell me your thought process when you summon the power of the winds. Or when you blast something with lightning. Explain how it feels to use your powers."

The son of Zeus glanced at Xanthe. She shrugged, unsure of what Percy wanted to hear.

"Um, well, it's like... I just think of the enemy that's in front of me, think about blasting it apart with lightning, and then it... happens. It's hard to explain. There's this tug in my gut, and it just happens. Isn't that how our powers work? We just call upon them and they bend to our will."

"Kind of," Percy said, rocking his head from side to side in hesitation. "But not really."

She and Leon met eyes again. She wasn't sure what message to give him.

"Think about it like this," Percy said. He turned toward the sea and extended an arm. His hand was parallel to the ground for a moment before he suddenly flicked it up. Simultaneously, a huge fountain of water, several stories high, shot up like he was flicking the water with his hand. "I'm not calling upon my powers. I _am_ my powers. I _am_ the sea. It is an extension of my body, of who I am. I flick the water up, as if I am playing with the water with my hand. It is only after you learn to control your powers as if they are an extension of yourself that you can unlock your true potential."

Xanthe blinked. Up until that point, she hadn't really understood why Percy wanted her to control a storm while standing still in a friendly environment. It had no practical use. She would only need to use the storm in the middle of a battle. But what if the storm was already powerful without needing to draw from the "heat" of battle? How much more destructive could it be?

"That's why you wanted me to practise this," Xanthe blurted. She stared at Percy. "You want me to become an impenetrable force in battle."

Percy gave her a sarcastic look. "Someone catches on quick."

She scowled and glared at him.

"Do you remember the feeling you had that day you knocked the Roman eagles out of the sky?" Percy asked, turning back to Leon. "Think about lightning like that. Think about the winds like you're just walking on air."

Leon scratched his head. "Like I'm using a spear or something?"

Percy pointed out at the sea again, lifting lumpy, humanoid shapes made of water up above the surface. "Try it."

Leon took a deep breath and focused his gaze. He reached out with his hand, hesitantly at first, before he straightened his arm and opened his palm outward. Lightning shot out of his hand, reaching out and blasting through the humanoid water-figures. The tendrils reached out like arms, building off of one another and slicing through the water.

When Leon lowered his arm, he looked like he'd just had a nice walk in a garden. A large smile split his face, and he hardly looked like he broke a sweat.

"Better?"

"I will be a lot better," Leon nodded. "How... how did I never think of that before?"

"If I never became immortal, I doubt I'd even be as powerful as Xanthe," Percy admitted. "It took a long time for me to hone my powers and become as powerful as I am today. The advice I give you is from over a thousand years of practice."

Xanthe was flattered by the compliment, but also a little surprised. She wondered how powerful a fifteen-year-old Percy was. From her dreams, she figured he was a good swordsman, but she couldn't tell how far his control over water had developed. She'd assumed he was as proficient with his powers as he was with his blade. But that may not have been entirely true.

Then again, if he'd survived mostly alone for years, then he had to have been powerful already.

Percy stretched his arms and glanced at the two of them. "Well, I suppose we should take a break. Xanthe, meet me at Theodora's favorite garden in two hours. Until then, you have free rein. Do what you please. Just try not to kill yourself."

She had a feeling that he still wanted her to practice her powers, but she was glad he was taking a step back. He was being a little receptive to their wishes. Leon called it "not being controlled", but Xanthe felt Percy hadn't intended on controlling them. He was just trying to persuade them to fight with him.

Percy left them alone on the shores near Sykai.

They stood in silence for a while, staring out at the waves. It was a cloudy, windy day. Made conditions rough for a smooth boat ride over the strait, but that didn't concern Xanthe. She didn't get seasick easily. And Leon could just fly over.

"How long do you think it'll take the remaining legions to reach Constantinople?" Leon asked.

Xanthe shrugged. "No idea. I'm not a strategist. I'm a fighter."

He cracked a smile. "You're not wrong about that."

She looked out at the city. It was a beautiful town with spectacular domed architecture and strong, proud walls. Tucked on the peninsula, surrounded by water, it was like paradise compared to camp. Some of it seemed too lavish for her, especially the richer neighborhoods, but she could only imagine how beautiful Rome must have looked when it stood as grand as Constantinople. The difference between the two cities today was like night and day.

On sunny days, Constantinople looked even more beautiful.

"Honestly," she sighed, "I hope they don't come for a while. I don't know how ready we are to fight them. Sure, we succeeded in destroying the Eleventh, but that was because of the lake. We hardly managed to stop them when they attacked our camp. In fact, we _didn't_ stop them."

"I just... I hope that, with Marcus dead, and the Eleventh Legion gone, the Romans focus on me instead of my village." Leon frowned as he looked out at Constantinople. "I know it's going to sound selfish, but I don't want to live through what Thanas or you have to live through. I don't want the ones I love to die."

She smiled bitterly. "If only that was possible. With the war, people are going to start dying."

He kept his gaze level and his face expressionless. "I know. You heard about Empress Theodora, right? Thanas told me he heard from Irene that Empress Theodora has an incurable illness."

Xanthe turned to him, blinking in surprise. "No, I hadn't heard that."

"Really?" He looked equally as surprised. "I thought Thanas must've told you already. I mean, I don't think anyone else knows except Thanas. Maybe Alex and Viv."

"Alex and Viv?"

She'd never heard anyone call them that before. It caught her so off-guard that, for a moment, she completely forgot about the shocking news that Theodora was going to die. She couldn't contain her bewilderment at his nicknames as she stared at him like he'd fallen from the sky.

"What?" The son of Zeus shrugged his shoulders. "I've been here for a couple of weeks now. There's gotta be an easier way to say their names instead of reciting their full given name. Alex and Viv. Those nicknames are much shorter and easier to say."

"Then what am I?" Xanthe asked. "Xan? The? Nth?"

"Babe," he joked, shooting her a wink.

While her mind immediately thought he sounded like an absolute idiot, her face suddenly felt hot. "Thanas was right. You are insane. And not the _good_ insane."

"You call Athanasios by the name Thanas," he pointed out. "That's a nickname."

She huffed and looked away. "Half the time, I find it hard to believe that you were raised in a remote village."

"I spent a lot of time around some... rowdy boys in Thessalonica at the military school." He shuddered, asif haunted by the memory. "And the girls... Those impulsive and... uh... _driven_ girls spent a lot of time around them. Not a good combination by any means. But that's beside the point. Yeah, I was raised in a village, but I got a taste of city life. Not that I enjoy that lifestyle by any means. You have to like the _person, _not the body."

"How did we even get to this topic?" Xanthe said uncomfortably. She didn't like the way her thoughts were beginning to spiral, or the way her eyes seemed to latch onto different parts of Leon's body. "What were we talking about again?"

Leon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Right... um, Empress Theodora's death?"

"Right." Her heart sank. She tried to absorb the news as best as she could, but it was depressing to think about. "What does it mean for us? Isn't she the one keeping us safe in Constantinople?"

"One would presume so."

"So we get kicked out by the emperor when she passes? How are we going to fight the Romans if we don't have a steady source of sustenance? Food and water and shelter are incredibly important if we want to have a fighting chance."

He hesitated. "Well, maybe Percy and Irene can talk Justinian into keeping them around. He's... he's not going to be that cruel, is he? He's not going to kick out a bunch of kids who need a home, who are contributing to his city and paying taxes, is he?"

Xanthe didn't have an answer. And, even if she did, she wasn't sure if it would be an answer they were satisfied with. Now, the cloud cover seemed more ominous, as if foretelling of the dark days ahead of them.

"We should probably head back," she said.

He nodded.

"Race you," she grinned.

"You know I can fly, right?"

"And I can swim really fast."

"As fast as I can fly? Yeah right."

"Wanna bet?"

"Five drachma."

Xanthe smirked. "You're on."

He just winked at her and blasted off into the sky. She ran for the water and dove in. Willing the water around her to bend to her will, she propelled across the strait. She tried to use what Percy taught her. She imagined that she was an embodiment of the water, as if she could dissolve and materialize on opposite shores, as if she embodied the whole strait.

Unfortunately, Leon hadn't taken the bet lightly, and when she emerged from the water, he was already there, waiting for her.

"Damn," she cursed under her breath.

"Money?" Leon held his hand out and teased her with a grin of his own. "I believe I won our bet."

Xanthe reluctantly dug her coins from her pocket and handed them over. Leon gladly took them and laughed as he put an arm around her shoulders. She wanted to be mad at him, but she couldn't help but blush. Why did the feeling of his arm around her shoulders and his side pressed against hers make her heart race? She wasn't the type to crush on guys that easily. At least, she thought she wasn't.

He pulled out a _solidus_ from his other pocket. "Should we grab a drink? Something nice and refreshing?"

"Whatever," she managed, forcing her gaze away from him.

As they walked, Xanthe realized they were close to Justinian's palace. In fact, they were standing on the outside of Theodora's garden.

"My dear husband..."

Xanthe blinked. She thought she heard the Empress' voice and stopped in her tracks. Leon had noticed too, because he was staring right at the fence like he'd heard a ghost pop out of nowhere. They glanced at each other. While eavesdropping wasn't really her thing, she couldn't help it. A bad feeling crept up her chest as she and Leon approached the voice.

They could see Empress Theodora and Emperor Justinian through the cracks of the fence.

"I... I'm dying, Justinian."

Justinian blinked before turning to the doctor and laughing. "She's delirious, isn't she?"

The doctor stayed silent.

It took a few moments for it to register in his head. Xanthe could see different stages his mind was going through. He was in disbelief, like he thought it was all a prank. Then he realized the magnitude of what she was saying, and fear glimmered in his eyes. His eyes searched Theodora for any trace of a lie, of any fib whatsoever. When he couldn't find any, his eyes flashed angrily, like he wanted to hit her.

But then he came to an understanding. Theodora looked terrified. She looked sorrowful. She wasn't lying for some silly reason. She was telling the truth.

Xanthe could see the moment Justinian's heart broke.

"You..."

"I won't survive past the end of the year," Theodora said, her voice cracking. "I know... I know we've lived more comfortably and more lavishly than many others. I've lived a long life compared to so many of our poorest subjects. But I know it's too early. It's far too early."

"End of the year..."

"I want you to prepare for this," she told him. "My friends, the leaders of the group I took in from Achaea, tried to help me. Even beyond the doctor's help. They're like magical healers, and even they could not find a way to save me. I didn't want to worry you until it became apparent that this would be our fate."

Justinian stared at her for a moment, desperate longing in his eyes. She was right in front of him, but she had never felt further away.

Xanthe's heart sank as the emperor enveloped his wife in a sorrowful embrace. She could hear his soft weeping. She could hear his sorrow, feel his helplessness. Instinctively, she grabbed Leon's hand for comfort.

"Please..." Theodora said through tears. "Protect my friends. For as long as you can."

"I..."

"I don't ask you to promise," she said. "I request this. My _last_ request to you as a subject of the Roman Empire."

All that came out of Emperor Justinian's mouth was, "Don't leave me."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

As they watched something they clearly were not meant to watch, Xanthe couldn't help but think about whether Justinian would grant her last request. Would he protect them as she wished? Her gut told her he would do his best. Because, in the end, he truly loved Theodora. That was easy to see.

"Let's go," Leon whispered from behind her. "We shouldn't intrude any longer."

Xanthe nodded and followed Leon away, off toward the palace's main garden. She didn't pay attention to the fact that she was still holding his hand. She didn't pay attention to the fact that they were supposed to meet Percy for further training.

Her heart hurt for Justinian. The war was going to take off and escalate. The Roman legions were going to march onward to Constantiople. Empress Theodora was going to die. He had to deal with his army in the west, in Italia, getting smacked around by the Ostrogoths. He had to deal with the Persians in the east. Now, his wife was requesting he keep a bunch of kids safe from an unknown enemy. She would only be the first casualty in this war. Xanthe thought of all the others: Alexandros, Viviana, and other campers. Would they suffer the same fate as Ionna?

She wasn't sure how much heartache she could take. But she would be tested. Ionna was the first. Theodora was the second.

And there would be many more deaths than just two.


	24. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Percy found Irene standing in the surf on the opposite side of the Bosporus.

He glanced back across the strait toward the city. Few would come out this far onto the Asian side of the strait. It was mostly because there was nothing of worth on the Asian side, but it also wasn't very accessible. It might've been a decent area for an enemy camp, though.

Her hair was cut to about shoulder-length, but with the strong ocean breeze, it still danced with the wind. She was dressed in summer clothing. Most men would probably berate her for wearing such revealing clothing, since she was a woman, but there was little wrong with it. She still covered up what was most important.

As if on cue, she turned around and saw him.

Percy waved and joined her along the shoreline.

"You found me?" she asked, clearly surprised to see him.

He stepped into the water and felt the power of the waves flow through him. "The Trio noted that you weren't present during the meeting. I presume that you're taking a break, given Theodora's condition."

Irene turned back toward the city. She didn't say anything, but her eyes told him the answer he asked for.

She had chosen a good spot to take a break. It was a hot, sticky day. Being near the water and taking in the sea breeze was refreshing in comparison. He figured the heat was stressing her out. There was nothing they could do about Theodora's death. Percy had his hunches on how to treat it, but many of the doctors and the staff in the palace didn't believe what he suggested. Moreover, he wasn't sure if he was right. If he was wrong, he would probably end up killing Theodora anyway. The only difference would be that _he_ would be blamed for her death rather than the illness itself.

"If you could be reborn again, what would you choose to be, if you could?" she asked.

Percy was surprised by the sudden question, but quickly regained his composure. "I've never thought about that."

"I would like to see what it's like being mortal," she said. "Like, fully mortal. I can't see any of this world. The Mist would blind me to reality."

"Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Or, you know, at least have lived a normal life." She smiled sadly as she started at Constantinople. "I would've loved to live in a world where I didn't have to worry about surviving. Even if there were dangerous people around me, I would still be relatively safe. And this world would be less punishing to women. I would be able to do what I do without being looked down upon. I would grow up, fall in love, start a family, have children of my own."

Percy looked at her. This was the first time she'd mentioned her internal desires to him. They'd spent the last few months together in Constantinople, which was the closest they'd worked in a long time. They'd both changed since the last time they were together during Caesar's Civil War. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but she just felt different. She felt more comfortable to be with.

"Hard to imagine with my past, isn't it?" she chuckled.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I'm being a little depressing right now, aren't I?"

"A little."

She turned to face him and let out a forced laugh. "Sorry. I'm not exactly a bundle of joy."

"You don't have to be," he shrugged. "I get it."

She sighed. "How evil are we that we mourn the deaths of our loved ones while simultaneously seeking the deaths of those we oppose?"

"Evil? Is it evil?"

Irene stared at him. "Of course it's evil."

"We're built for war, Irene. We're not built for peace. We're tribal, petty and self-absorbed. That's how the gods created us. We have the capacity to live, love and play. But when it comes down to survival, we'll do nothing but fight. How can anyone survive such a society? By supporting the ones closest to us and dehumanizing those we don't identify with. Are you suggesting that humans are inherently evil?"

"Maybe we are."

Percy wasn't expecting that answer. He blinked and stared at her for a little while, trying to decipher if there was any hidden meaning beneath her words. But he couldn't find any.

"Evil... Evil is a subjective definition. The way I interpret it may not be the same as the way you interpret it. To me, evil is normal. It is those that go beyond and above with kindness and empathy that transcend wickedness. Why is evil normal? Because, for the most part, you need to be evil to survive."

"Then what's the whole deal with trying to convince me not to march on the legions?" he asked. "You've always wanted to stop me."

She shook her head. "_Save_ you. Remember that. I want to _save_ you."

"Then why would you save someone from evil when they are evil to begin with?"

"Because I am evil. I am self-absorbed. If you continue down your path, I no longer get to enjoy your company. I no longer get to see you laugh and live. I will no longer be able to see you as a human. You will have descended into little more than a daemonic spirit, and I must live on, alone, carrying on your legacy."

The wind died for a moment, and her hair fell gently to her shoulders. The only sound in his ears was the lapping waves below them, rolling in toward the land and then retreating back to its home. The sky was birdless, and the city sounded silent from across the strait.

"That is the difference between me and the rest of the world," she said. "They want to see you bow in submission. I want to see you smile freely."

The wind returned, throwing up her hair again. For a moment, all of his worries and thoughts disappeared. His mind went blank aside from the still image of what he was seeing in front of him. Looking at her like this, one would've been hard-pressed to believe that her first real crime was murder.

He thought about his first quest. Even if Jason was trying to reclaim his throne, the Argonauts were, in fact, exactly like raiders. They sailed on a boat with the intent of stealing something from an unassuming kingdom. They were thieves.

It wasn't like Perseus, who killed a demonic monster that turned innocents to stone. It wasn't like Theseus, who was sent to kill a monster that had killed dozens of innocent Athenians in years prior. Even Heracles, who had stolen golden apples from the garden of the second-most villainous Titan that had ever existed, could be rationalized.

Colchis had done nothing to them. And, in the process of stealing the Fleece, Percy had killed several of the guards chasing him. Without even thinking.

"You should smile, too," he told her.

Irene raised an eyebrow.

"I'll take a page form your book. I'll be more selfish. I want you to live your life for you. Not for me."

"I told you, I'm—"

"Thinking you're selfish for wanting to see me smile is stupid. You should do the things you never got a chance to do. Join the Hunters. Or fall in love and start your family."

She shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"First of all, I'm infertile. I always have been, even as a mortal. It's why Deiphobus liked me so much. Secondly, I made an oath to Olympus. Who could I possibly fall in love with? There's no one besides you and I in this fight. There are no other immortal heroes like us. Can I even fall in love with you? Do you really think you could love _me_?"

Her eyes were blue in that moment, reflecting the glittering sea.

"You've only ever loved Zoë. You still loved her when you returned from exile, after you endured all that shit in the east. And, as for me, how can I love someone else when I can hardly love myself?"

Percy reached out with his two index fingers and pushed the corners of her mouth up in an artificial smile. "You should smile, too."

Irene slapped his hands away and gave him a murderous look. "I dare you to do that one more time."

He obliged and pushed the corners of her mouth up.

"You're asking for it now!" she exclaimed.

He blocked the kick aimed for his manhood and immediately jumped into the water. She was glaring at him, but her eyes were shining with bright energy. She looked more like she was going to pinch his nose than she was to gut him with a knife.

"Try and catch me," he teased, swimming backwards.

"Stop and turn around!" Irene barked.

A wave of magic washed over him, and half of him immediately began fighting for control over his motor functions. His thoughts, fortunately, were still on his side. She was using her charmspeak. All of it. If she wanted to, she could be an extremely powerful diplomat. Even with all the resistance he'd built up, her charmspeak in full force was difficult for him to handle. He thought he was immune to it, but he clearly wasn't.

His mind shuddered as he wrestled for control. In the process, a small wave rose up and rained down on the shoreline. Suddenly, his mind cleared and he gained full control of his senses. He looked up and saw a disgruntled looking Irene standing on the beach, soaking wet from her shower.

Percy swam back to shore and walked up to her, suppressing a grin. "I didn't think it rained today. You didn't bring a parasol?"

Irene huffed. "You. Suck."

He laughed and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to help her dry. He closed his eyes and focused on removing the water that had been soaked up by the fabric of her clothes.

"That's good enough," she said after a moment, gently pushing his arms away. "It's hot enough that the rest will dry on its own."

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

She gave him a small smile. "I need to cool off anyway. I wasn't really sure where our conversation was headed, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise."

Percy noticed her bottom garments were still wet, sticking to her body awkwardly. Her hair was also wet. It was darker than usual.

"It's okay. I'll help you dry up."

He grabbed her hands and placed them on her hips. Resting his own hands on top of hers, he focused on removing the water out of the fabric and depositing it on the sand below their feet. Her clothes looked less awkward after he was done, hanging freely as they should have been. He then reached up to dry her hair so that the little droplets of water wouldn't trickle down her neck and be absorbed by the collar of her shirt.

"You can stop touching me now," she said when he was done.

"Sorry."

He pulled away, able to hear the thumping of his heart in his ears.

There was a brief pause as the two of them stared at each other. He wasn't sure what to say.

She broke the silence. "I mean it, though. If I chose to be reborn, I would be a regular mortal. Have you decided what you want to be?"

He pursed his lips. What did he want to be, if he could choose?

"An animal? A son of Athena instead of Poseidon?"

"I guess..." His thoughts began to settle. There was only one thing that was coming to mind. "I guess, if I was human again, I don't really care who or what I turn out to be. As long as I have someone like you in my life. I'd want a friend who will stick by me through thick and thin. Of course, I'd want them to cut ties when I go overboard, but other than that... someone like you as a friend or a family member would be nice."

"Me? Not Zoë? Or the Trio?"

"No. Just you."

He would give it a shot, just like she wanted. He would try to live without causing trouble and strife. He would fight the Romans because they were attacking the Greeks, not for any other personal reason. He would play and laugh and live.

He would take someone like her, who wanted to see him smile, ten times out of ten, instead of someone who wanted him to stop because it was the right thing to do.

It was funny, considering she'd been that kind of person in the past. But everyone changes with time.

"Percy! Irene!"

Thanas jogged up to them, his expression solemn.

Percy met Irene's eyes. He had a feeling he knew what happened.

"Empress Theodora... She's dead."

* * *

Leon wanted to honor Theodora as best as he could, but funerals just weren't his thing. He held up as best as he could for Ionna's funeral because of Xanthe and Thanas. For anyone else, it just became a painful reminder of what he did to his uncle and a fear that his mother would be next.

"Not a fan of funerals?"

Leon turned to watch as Thanas walked up from behind and took a seat on the bench next to him. His expression was solemn and understanding.

"It never gets easier," Thanas sighed, looking out at the view of the strait. They were sitting by the shore in a secluded area that Empress Theodora often brought them to for private discussions. "I can confirm that."

Leon pointed north, deeper into the strait, wanting to change the topic of conversation. "The Clashing Rocks were there back in the day, right?"

Thanas nodded silently.

"Percy would've been on that journey. I wonder what it was like to sail with Jason and the Argonauts."

"I'm sure neither of us would have been as successful as Percy," Thanas said. "Given our fathers and all."

Leon cracked a smile. He was right about that.

"Have you assimilated yet?" Thanas asked, turning to look at him curiously. "Do you understand us now? As Greek demigods? Do you feel like these are your friends?"

Leon smiled wistfully as he kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I miss Home. I miss my family and the others in the village. But I can't say I regret coming out here. Everything feels more natural, more comfortable. I don't have to hide who I am. And, _almost_ from the very beginning, you and Xanthe have been great to me. You've been kind and helpful and inspiring."

"Especially Xanthe?" Thanas raised a knowing eyebrow.

Leon shrugged, unable to stop the smile from creeping up onto his face. "Believe me, Thanas. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I really do want to help honor Ionna."

The son of Hades clapped his shoulder. "Thanks, Leon. I really appreciate it. It's hard letting go. But we have to continue the fight. If not for Ionna, then for myself. To protect the others. Even if it costs me my own life."

Leon took a long look at Thanas. In the past few months, Thanas had become more controlled and determined. After mourning the loss of Ionna, Leon expected Thanas to lash out like Percy had. He expected Thanas to want to follow Percy to destroy the remaining legions. But he didn't. Thanas knew something that he wasn't aware of. Leon suspected Xanthe was equally unaware.

But Leon didn't prod. Maybe it wasn't something he was meant to hear.

"We'll all fight," Leon told him. "For all of us."

"There you guys are."

Leon turned to see Xanthe approaching. She wore a tired smile.

"I was wondering where you'd run off to, Leon." She paused and seemed to realize her mistake. "Oh, and you too, Thanas!"

"Just a little chat," Leon said, trying to return her smile. "Get away from the funeral for a bit. It's too depressing."

Thanas gave a quiet chuckle and stood up. He glanced at Xanthe. "Well, since this little fish calls me the depressing one, I suppose I'll go and join the depressing funeral. You two can stay here and take a break. I'll fill in for you."

Xanthe gave Thanas a skittish look. Her eyes darted back and forth, as if she was nervous. "No, no. It's okay. You don't have to fill in. I can go back. You're better at talking with Leon anyway. I'm just... I mean, I'm not really the best—"

"Like you don't want to spend some alone time with Leon," Thanas snorted. His gaze was sad but warm, like he wanted them to live together in lieu of the relationship he'd once had with Ionna. "Stay. I'll see you both later. Oh, and, by the way, this little viewing point is actually off limits for the funeral. So it's... private for the rest of the day."

Before Xanthe had an opportunity to complain, Thanas shot them a smirk and left.

Leon patted the bench, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they were alone. He tried to act cool. "Sit. You've been standing the whole day."

Wordlessly, she nodded and sat down.

Knowing she was too tense to start the conversation, Leon decided to do the talking. "We're different from the others. Even Thanas. While we owe loyalty to our friends here, a part of us is stuck somewhere else, desperately clinging on to the family we left behind. It only makes this whole war more devastating because we can be taken advantage of."

She nodded again. "Yeah."

"With Theodora's death, the future becomes uncertain," he continued with a sigh. "Will everything be alright? Will Percy and Irene be able to handle this? Everything is becoming more stressful the closer I get to everyone here. Can I protect them all like your mother wanted us to?"

"I... I don't know."

He turned to face her. "Neither do I. The only thing I _am_ certain of is that I don't want to lose my family, both old and new."

She met his eyes and suddenly began to tear up.

Instinctively, he reached out and pulled her into a hug.

"I shouldn't... I don't deserve any of this."

She sniffled into his shoulder, and he held her tighter. Even though she was warm, he felt empty and cold inside. Seeing her sad hurt him more than watching his mother mourn his uncle. He could never escape the guilt and sorrow of being his uncle's killer. But seeing Xanthe cry was the only thing in the world that could eclipse that pain.

"My... my mother is dead. I killed my brother. I don't deserve to live as a hero. But I can't stop wanting to fight and to live and to destroy the Romans. Am I... am I evil? Am I the villain?"

"I don't think there are any heroes or villains in this story." Leon patted her on the back, trying to soothe her heartache. "I'm the same as you. I killed my uncle that day we first met."

She shook her head, still burying her head into his shoulder. "You don't understand. It's not the same. I... I started to have nightmares. At first, I was dying. I was failing to accomplish our targets, our goals. The Roman were winning every damn battle and it made me mad. Even when it was the same battle over and over and over again. But then... then Thanas was the one dying. I... I got angry. I tried to fight back, to avenge him. And then... and then..."

Xanthe broke down again.

Leon had a feeling he knew what her nightmares entailed. A chill went up his spine, and his heart suddenly felt heavy in his chest. "Then... _I_ started to die?"

"I couldn't..." She stopped to catch her breath, shaking in sorrow. "I couldn't control myself. I did the things that we saw Percy do. I'm afraid, Leon. What if I turn into the demon that Percy was after Mei's death? What would I do if you died?"

Leon couldn't find it in himself to even crack a joke. It was mostly because he'd had the same thoughts.

It was irrational because they'd only really known each other for a few months. But he cared greatly for Xanthe. Out of all the people he'd met at the Greek camp, she was the one he was most afraid to lose. He didn't know why he liked her. Her looks had to have been a part of it, but there was something deeper, as if the Fates had intertwined their strings.

"It makes no sense," she said into his chest. "Why am I so scared to lose you? When I've known everyone for years, why is it you that I'm most fearful of losing?"

He forced out a joke. "Maybe you find my charm irresistible."

She didn't look up, but she lightly punched his shoulder. "This isn't the time."

"Honestly, I liked you at first sight," he admitted. He kept his arms around her, resting his chin on the crowd of her head. "I guess the mystery of that daughter of Poseidon kept me up at night, making me wonder what this world really had in store for me. We were young, but you were still cute. I thought about you every so often. Kind of wondered what it would be like if I met you again."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not lying."

"Liar."

"I swear to Poseidon. I mean, I don't really know why either. But the more I talk, the more it seems to come out. Honestly, I just remember thinking about you once in a while. I wondered what you looked like. I thought you'd be beautiful, but when I saw you on that hill at camp in your armor, I'm pretty sure my heart nearly stopped because you were beyond what I'd imagined."

"Now you're just flattering me."

"At least it makes sense, though. About why I care about you so much."

"You're making me feel embarrassed."

"I hope you _are_ embarrassed." Leon rubbed her back soothingly. "You won't lose me. I won't lose you. I promise that if we die, we die together. And if we live, we live together."

"You can't make that promise—"

"I'll make it anyway."

She pulled away form him, her eyes puffy and red. "Last time, Ionna made a promise to Thanas and look how that turned out."

"I don't care. We're different."

She stopped sniffling, staring at him like she so desperately wanted to believe it.

He wasn't sure where the confidence was coming from. There would, undoubtedly, be more funerals in the future. But he would make sure that the funerals were Roman funerals, not Greek funerals. He wouldn't endure any more of this depressing shit.

"I won't promise to marry you when all of this is said and done. I won't promise you an abstract future. But, from this moment onward, I promise you that we will stay side-by-side. Until the end."

Xanthe looked into his eyes for a moment. He couldn't read her gaze, but he could see a hint of raw hunger... raw lust.

"I want to say I love you," she mumbled, "but maybe I'm just really fucking horny."

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss that quickly built up into much, much more.

As Thanas said, it _was_ a private area. So why not?

He was horny too.


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Thanas knew they were together the moment he saw them return from their private session during Theodora's procession. The others seemed to be surprised when they announced their relationship months later, but Thanas understood the look they gave each other every so often. It was the same one he used to give Ionna when he wanted to keep their relationship a secret.

He stared at the lifeless bodies in front of him, their hands almost touching, as if they'd been reaching out for each other just before they died.

"Here's the cart," Alexandros said. "Ready for pickup."

The two of them loaded the dead Romans onto the cart. They would be brought to a nearby field for the funeral. It was Thanas' idea to honor the Romans they killed. He convinced everyone that they would want the Romans to treat their bodies with the same respect if they fell in battle. He could sense Percy's intrigue and suspicion, but he hoped the immortal hero hadn't figured out what he knew.

Irene didn't say anything to him when he first suggested the idea, but she had flashed him a brief smile when she passed by. He knew she was appreciative of his decision. After all, if the goal was to save Percy, then Thanas had to show him that there was another way.

"You did well," Percy told him as they rolled the cart onto the field. He glanced at Alexandros. "You, too."

"Thank you." Alexandros bowed his head. "Your ability with the sword helps us all when it comes to battle."

"You're a good commander." Percy clapped his shoulder. "Keep it up."

"Hey, I'll help!" Leon called, jogging over from where they set up the shrouds.

The son of Zeus helped Alexandros guide the cart away.

Thanas sighed and stretched. "This was more successful than I thought it would be."

"You prepared well," Percy said. He crossed his arms and looked out across the field, nodding approvingly. "That's why we succeeded. You've given the strategy a lot of thought. I don't suppose that should be much of a surprise considering the company you've kept."

"Yeah, being around Ionna for years helped," he admitted. "It's hard, though. Balancing all the planning required to fight and the other side of life—the freedom, the laughter, the playfulness—is all really damn difficult. I can't see how you've managed to do it."

"I haven't," the immortal hero chuckled. "I haven't had what you would call fun in a long time."

"You should, though. Doesn't it make you feel happier? It's a lot less stressful."

"I wish I could. But I want you guys to live that life. If I have fun, then others will suffer. I'll do what it takes to end the war, even if it ends after your lifetime."

Thanas didn't respond. He stared out at the funeral pyres that had been laid out. A part of him resented the Romans for all they had done to his friends. A part of him blamed the Romans for Ionna's death, even though they had little to do with it. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to avenge the fallen. But he was afraid that, if he started, he would never recover. If he started, he would be of no use to Irene and he would just become what Percy used to be. He understood why Percy was so dangerous. Percy may have been manipulating emotions for centuries to pit Greeks and Romans against each other, but it wasn't as if he'd planted the seeds. Percy was simply taking advantage of the resentment that already existed with them. Irene was right in thinking that there was no point in "saving the Romans" or "saving the Greeks". They just needed to save Percy.

Thanas hated Apollo, too. He couldn't see any other reason why Percy had become such a monster other than that stupid god. And Zeus. It made him angry. Blaming Apollo fueled his dark side, the side Percy wanted him to embrace and Irene wanted him to control.

He wasn't very good at controlling it. Since they returned to Constantinople and began their re-conquest around a year ago, he'd killed six Romans. Considering that the number of Romans they had found in the past year or so totalled no more than twenty to twenty-five, he accounted for roughly one-in-four of all Roman casualties in the region. Second place for kills were Leon and Xanthe with two each.

"By the way," Percy remarked, "can you ask Leon and Xanthe to take their private time away from the sleeping quarters? Yes, I know those are already private areas, and it's more sanitary to do it there, but sound carries itself fairly far."

Thanas felt hot, feeling embarrassed for the two. "Ah, yeah. Of course. I'll... uh... let them know."

"Was the camp better?" Percy asked. "The forest is pretty huge. I'm sure you and Ionna found a few quiet spots."

His face felt like it was on fire. "Um... yeah, I guess."

The immortal hero grinned at him. "No need to be embarrassed. It's fairly common for kids about your age. Of course, society as a whole loves purity, but the truth is much dirtier."

Over the past year, they'd also grown a lot closer to Percy. When he wasn't on the battlefield and he wasn't devising a plan to attack the Romans, he was actually a really cool person. It wasn't hard to tell that he'd grown up exposed to things considered too mature for his age at the time. And, while he stood by what he believed in, he wasn't uptight. He figured that humanizing Percy was one step in achieving the goal of saving him.

"Does losing someone you love... does that pain ever go away?" Thanas asked.

Percy nodded. "Yeah, the pain goes away. One day, it won't hurt to think about that person. It'll just be sad."

"What about you?"

The immortal hero turned to look at him.

"What if you lost someone you dearly loved? What would you do?"

"Get angry, if I'm being honest. When Achilles died... I didn't exactly take it well. Not sure if you saw that or not."

"What if Irene died?"

"I hope she doesn't." Percy turned away and looked up at the sky. "She's the only person that stood by my side through all of this. I know she and I fight. We don't always see eye-to-eye. Sometimes we're on opposing sides. But, in the end, she's treated me like I'm worth something, and I'll always remember her for that."

"And us?"

"Of course I would be sad. I've spent a lot of time around you. You're more human to me because of it. It always works that way. The more you know and like someone as a person, the more it hurts when they're taken away from you."

Thanas hesitated. "Then... um... what about...?"

"Zoë?"

Thanas was caught off-guard. How did Percy know he was aware of her?

"I know you've been having dreams," Percy replied, answering the unspoken question. "It's hard, though, thinking about someone you once loved and knowing they're on the other side. Our paths once crossed. And now they branch off in different directions. I can't say I wouldn't be sad, but I wouldn't be bawling my eyes out if she died."

Thanas nodded. Suddenly, he was reminded of Leon's and Xanthe's situations. He frowned. "Will Leon and Xanthe be okay? Leon has family back in his village that he's afraid to lose, and Xanthe lost her mother and half-brother because of the war."

"Xanthe understands loss better than either of you boys," Percy said. "She was also close to Ionna, if I'm not mistaken. That's three loved ones that she has lost. Compare that to your one and Leon's zero and you have quite the imbalance."

Thanas stared at the ground in guilt. Because of Ionna's death, and with what Irene had shown him, he'd pushed the other two to the side. He'd forced his own wishes onto them, facilitating their relationship by urging them to do what he couldn't do with Ionna.

"Don't feel bad," Percy told him. "It's okay to be selfish. It's a natural instinct."

"It shouldn't be."

Percy's eyes flickered down, his lips curling into a smirk. "And why is that?"

"Well..."

Thanas didn't have a good answer. Maybe it was a natural instinct, one that preserved human life and allowed society to grow and prosper. Maybe, given the right circumstances, being selfish was the best thing to be. But he felt like it shouldn't have been. Being selfish, to him, meant to abandon the cohesive goal that they had set out to accomplish. If they wanted to defeat the Romans, they would have to let go of as many of their emotions as they could and make rational decisions to maximize the survival rate of Greek demigods. There was no room for being selfish.

"Sometimes being selfish is the only way to accomplish your goal," Percy said knowingly. "You may hesitate to choose one side over the other when you are faced with decisions. Choose one and neglect the others, you lose the support of the opposing crowd. Try to appease all, however, and you will lose everyone."

Thanas let the words sink in.

Percy gave him a salute. "But, overall, good job. Keep your chin up. It's hard. Don't worry if you need a break. War isn't for the weak-minded. Even the strongest can falter in the toughest of times."

Thanas nodded, and Percy turned around.

As the son of Poseidon walked away, Thanas felt a surge of energy rise up in his chest. It was tough fighting the war. But he needed to lead the charge. He owed it to everyone, being the most senior camper. He'd been there practically his whole life, though he'd spent his first year or two somewhere else. If he wouldn't lead them into battle, who would?

Alexandros and Viviana were the voices that shouted out loudest. Xanthe was a torrent of power and strength. Leon was the guide, the newcomer, who would help focus their efforts. Thanas had to take the reins and forge forward.

He owed it to them. He owed it to Ionna.

* * *

"There's about twenty of them," the Hermes scout reported. "They're all marching on foot. I circled around back, checking to see their prints and where they'd come from. I figure they're probably headed to Nicaea."

"Any prisoners?" Thanas asked.

"Two boys. They look young. Maybe ten to twelve? Both still in chains."

"Greek?"

"I'm not sure."

Thanas scratched his chin in thought. "Hm. Any way to find out?"

"If I get closer, they'll spot me. It'll ruin any possibility for an ambush."

"That's not ideal," Leon said. "If they're Greek demigods or legacies, and the Romans know we've advanced, we'll be put at a disadvantage. They'll kill the prisoners if we take the wrong step."

"I know." Thanas pressed his lips together firmly. He tried to figure out the best possible strategy. What would Ionna do? "Given that the prisoners are still children, we can't count on them joining in on the fight as willingly as an older prisoner. Did you confirm that they were going to head through the mountain pass?"

The scout nodded. "That's their plan. It's the fastest route."

"Our lines are already extended," Thanas mused, thinking out loud. "We've got most of our troops stationed in Constantinople. Alexandros and Viviana are escorting the party we rescued in Nicomedia back to the capital. Our heaviest troops are heading out west to Adrianople. That means we won't have any support in the time it will take for the Romans to arrive at Nicaea. In the town, we've got four guards and a medic for a group of nine Greeks and four Roman captives. Out here, we've got eight of us to fend off a group of twenty fully-armed, well-fed Romans. How many arrows do we have left?"

The head archer slipped his quiver off and took a glance. "Two blunts and one regular."

"The others?"

The three other archers showed him what they had: six blunts and seven regular arrows in total.

With the Romans' shields, and four Greek archers, sixteen arrows was practically nothing. Four shots each.

Thanas gathered them all in. "Okay, here's the plan. We're going to camp out in those woods, lying in wait for an ambush. Two archers on each side of the road. Figure out who goes where and make sure you're at least one hundred paces away from each other. Leon and Xanthe, you two will circle around their rear and surprise them from behind. Damianos and I will meet them head-on."

"When does the attack commence?" the head archer asked.

"Depends." Thanas turned to Damianos, the scout. "Will they advance at night?"

"It's a possibility."

Thanas looked around at the group. They were watching him expectantly. His eyes landed on Leon. He tried to imagine the scenario playing out in his head. If everything went according to plan, it would be Leon and Xanthe advancing in on the pincer movement that would ultimately deliver the final blow. Looking up at the sky, he saw nothing but dark grey clouds, as if a storm was about to start.

"Lightning," Thanas muttered. "That's our cue."

Leon's eyes focused. "Lightning?"

Thanas nodded to himself, putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. "Yes, lightning. You and Xanthe will be the ones executing the pincer movement." He looked up at the archers. "Use your discretion. There may be a couple that try to flee for help. We'll only speed up their hunt. If we take them all out, we'll be gone by the time they find out what happened. If we let some free, they still have a chance to catch up before we reach Constantinople. Pick off anyone who has managed to flank us. But try to avoid killing anyone. We need to try to capture the leader alive. And we don't know who that is."

"Yes, sir," a couple of the archers chorused.

"Our signal is lightning?" Leon asked. "When we're in position?"

"When they've entered the ambush zone, and you and Xanthe have taken to the road, covering all rear escape routes, you summon a bolt of lightning. When it flashes, I'll know we're ready to start. Archers can spare one arrow each at the beginning of the battle, when it's all chaos."

Leon and Xanthe glanced at each other. Xanthe gave him a reassuring nod. Leon smiled and turned back to Thanas. "We got this."

"Then let's do it."

They didn't need much time to prepare. Thanas calmly sat at the edge of the woods, staring out at the road. It was the first time in a while that he was able to just enjoy nature. Damianos sat next to him as they waited.

It was probably around dusk when the lightning flashed.

The sky had darkened significantly, and it looked about time to go inside a building for safety. The brilliant blue flash lit up the sky before a blast of thunder rattled his ears.

Thanas shot up to his feet and summoned his troops. Ten elite Persian soldiers dug their way out of the ground, forming a row behind him, shields up and ready to fight.

Damianos shivered. "I'll never get used to that."

Thanas shot him a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe one day a half-sibling of mine will summon your essence as an undead Greek warrior."

"Ha!" Damianos laughed. "Not a chance. I'd like to live a long life. Not die on the battlefield at seventeen."

"We're the same age. We can die together."

"Good luck with that dying shit. I'm not dying today."

Thanas laughed quietly. "Good. You can't die yet. We still need you. Stay behind the undead Persians. You should be safe."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

They advanced onto the road, spreading out like a fan from the Far East. Thanas extended his left hand and the shadows conglomerated together to form his helmet. With his right, he summoned his sword. The shadows swirled around mysteriously, solidifying into the dark metal blade. He placed his helmet on his head, fitting it tight, and held his sword at the ready.

The Persian troops behind him raised their shields in a defensive stance as they marched forward.

It didn't take long for Thanas to find the group of Romans. They had stopped and fallen into a defensive formation. In the darkness, he saw one body on the ground, crumpled like a ragdoll. Another figure was kneeling beside the body, as if tending to it. Thanas figured one of the Apollo kids had fired a regular arrow. The victim was dead.

The man guarding the front of the Roman group saw him and raised his sword. He barked orders at his troops, and they fell into a defensive line.

An arrow flew out of the woods and slammed into one of the Romans' shields, deflecting off and skittering harmlessly off into the ground nearby.

Thanas glanced over his shoulder at his troops and ordered, "Attack!"

The undead warriors chattered in assent and charged forward at the Roman line. Thanas followed closely behind, leaving Damianos as a lone target somewhere behind. Thanas wasn't worried. The Romans would stay in their defensive formation until they realized that they actually outnumbered the enemy.

Thanas picked a spot in the Roman line and pointed his sword forward as he ran. He hoped one of the archers would understand what he meant.

He bellowed a battle cry, preparing to meet the Roman wall.

_Thwack!_

An arrow sprouted from the neck of the Roman soldier he'd pointed at. With a grin, he charged through before the Romans could close ranks. He slammed the butt of his sword into the helmet of the Roman in front of him before swinging across and catching another in the face.

Two of his undead Persian troops filled in the gap, preventing them from surrounding Thanas. He stepped backward and parried a blade just as it darted toward his ribs.

"Rear!" he heard a shout. "Rear!"

There was another flash of blue light as lightning cut through the Roman ranks. Four of them fell, two dying instantly.

Thanas took advantage of the panic and began swinging. He was using a technique he'd learned from Percy to incapacitate the Romans without killing them. They would be hard-pressed to keep a Roman alive if they had a bad cut across their chest or abdomen. Blades to the wrists or necks were a no-go. He wasn't perfect at it, but he'd trained hard for moments like this.

He slashed and cut through the Romans as Leon and Xanthe closed in from the rear. Six of his nine Persian warriors had been reduced to piles of bones, but less than ten Romans remained able-bodied. Leon and Xanthe coming in didn't help them. Leon was like a wrecking ball. He was tall and powerful and wild, forcing the Romans back with his electric touch. Xanthe came in waves. She would duck away to recover, letting Leon continue pressing forward, before charging in for a moment to relieve him of the pressure and slamming into the Romans with full force.

Within moments, the Romans were defeated. No one was able to flee or escape. The last four dropped their weapons and surrendered.

Thanas counted the bodies: five dead, eleven unconscious, and four conscious.

"Who's the leader?" he asked the conscious Romans.

One of them pointed hesitantly at one of the unconscious bodies, an older man with battle-hardened features and a badge on his chest.

Thanas nodded. That was their guy. Not that he typically trusted Romans, but he figured they were probably telling the truth. If they weren't, it was no big deal. Capturing living Romans was just a bonus. He pointed at the body. "Tie him up. Tie the ones that are still awake."

"And the unconscious ones?" Damianos asked.

Thanas met Xanthe's eyes. The daughter of Poseidon gave him a grim nod, resigned to the terror of war. Leon flashed him a reassuring smile that looked so genuine Thanas almost thought it was. Except Leon's eyes betrayed his mouth.

"I'll take care of them," he told the son of Hermes darkly. "You all head off first."

One of the conscious Romans seemed to realize what he was planning on doing and shot to his feet. "Wait, you can't!"

Immediately, Leon put him into a headlock and threw him to the ground, his body flickering with electric energy. None of the other three conscious Romans moved. Even if it was glorious to die for one's cause or nation, it took a lot of bravery to actually be willing to die in the moment. It was a form of bravery that only the very foolish and only the very exceptional could ever hope of achieving.

"My sister..." the Roman choked, his arm outstretched toward one of the fallen girls.

Thanas felt a pang of sympathy for the Roman, and he softened. He gestured toward the girl.

"Are you sure?" Xanthe asked.

He knew it could very well backfire on them, but they could afford to keep six Romans alive. Nodding, he waved them away, and the others went to work. They tied up their new captives and began the journey back to Nicaea.

Thanas stared at the bodies strewn across the ground around him. He clenched the hilt of his sword and pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I'm sorry, Irene. But it's war."

He raised his sword. Just like Percy did when they destroyed the Eleventh Legion.

* * *

The Romans in the east retreated back down toward the Syrian region. That left the unoccupied Greek forces with only one front in the war and, within a couple of months, the west, except the Spartan region, was free from any organized Roman force. The Greeks could roam the homeland, save the Peloponnese, and the northern regions without fear of being hunted down by Roman troops.

Xanthe was finally granted a break, which she'd been hoping to get ever since they returned to Constantinople from Nicaea. She was glad to spend some alone time with Leon. Though, visiting the old camp, where her mother had died, wasn't exactly a romantic getaway.

It was something she needed to do, though. Just like how Thanas had visited Percy's place in Athens the year before, marking the one-year anniversary of Ionna's death. After two years, she needed some sort of closure, though she wasn't sure if seeing her mother's body would bring it. Percy told them that he'd placed a protective magical barrier around her mother, preventing her body from rotting like a normal human corpse, waiting for the day that her daughter would return.

They climbed the slope that her mother and Leon must have run up that day. The road hadn't been maintained. All the weeds and wild shrubbery grew like mad along the path. If it hadn't been for Leon's certainty as to which direction they needed to go, she felt like she probably would've gotten lost.

A part of her dreaded the return. A part of her was hoping they would get lost. She tried to gather her resolve, but the doubt wouldn't go away. She wanted to believe she was ready. She wanted to believe that this closure would come.

But being near the camp brought good memories with the bad. She remembered all the years she'd spent here, training in hopes that one day she would be able to fight against the Romans.

_We did alright, little me_, she thought. _We did alright._

"Around the bend," Leon said softly.

Xanthe blinked and realized she'd almost walked right off the path. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't been paying attention to where they were walking. Correcting her path, they continued up.

Leon kept a tight hold of her hand. A part of her wondered if he was also feeling hesitant. He told her about a couple of times he and her mother met. Her mother had been one of his gateways into the Greek world, one of the certainties he could rely on. Xanthe was proud that her mother had done her best to redeem herself after abandoning Florian when he was a child. Perhaps she hadn't always acted honorably, but at least she changed. _That _much couldn't be said about everyone.

Then Xanthe's pride waned as she remembered the fact that she'd killed Florian, her own half-brother, a couple years ago.

They were silent as they crested the hill, finally able to overlook the old valley. Things had changed a lot since they left. Everything looked older and more worn-down. The buildings were unkempt and rotting. Weeds and moss grew around them like spider webs, wrapped around every nook and cranny, dangling from ledges and roofs.

It was sad to see her old home like this.

On the hill where they'd made their stand, they could still see some of the remnants of the Greek fire cannon they'd unleashed. The rocks from the fire pit still lay strewn on the ground, scattered from the explosion. The rocks looked unchanged. Fragmented and blown apart, but fundamentally the same. Unlike the wooden structures beside them.

Protected by a magic barrier, just as Percy told them, her mother's body lay flat on the hill. The javelins that had cut her down were organized neatly on either side of her, lying parallel from head to butt.

Leon approached first, squatting and picking up one of the Roman javelins. They'd seen many in the best couple of years during battles, but looking at them never ceased to be amazing. The long but soft iron shank was very effective against shields and armor, able to bend while lodged into enemy equipment and hamper their fighting capabilities. The iron shanks that had killed her mother weren't bent at all. Human flesh was nowhere near as strong as thick wood or metal.

"The blood was cleaned off," Leon muttered, looking at the tip of the javelin. "Percy must've also buried the dead Romans."

She looked around them. At the top of the hill, there was a small marble statue of a Roman general on horseback. The horse was rearing on its hind legs, and the general had his sword high in the air, like he was calling for a charge. For a moment, Xanthe thought it was impossible for Percy to prepare something like that in the short amount of time it took them to get to Thessalonica, but then she remembered the Infinity Pouch. She wondered if it had been his idea or Irene's to honor the dead Romans.

Her mother looked at ease. The worry lines and wrinkles had disappeared from her face, making her look almost youthful again. Her torso had been wrapped up with a cloth and must have covered all the puncture wounds from the javelins.

Xanthe slowly knelt down and unwrapped her mother's body. Leon watched her with concern but didn't say anything. He shuffled back to give her some space.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the cloth away to reveal the wounds beneath. They were purplish, as if it hadn't been long since she died. She supposed that was what the magic was for. She'd seen bodies that had been dead for weeks, and they had been in much worse shape than her mother's body. In a way, she was glad. It gave her a chance to say goodbye. Percy must have known she would want to do this one day.

It was... anticlimactic. She expected to feel something... more.

As she stared at her mother's dead body, she neither wept nor sighed in relief. The pain of her deceased mother still lay within her heart, but it wasn't so intense that it overwhelmed her. Perhaps it was the war that had desensitized her. Perhaps being a killer, having blood on her hands, mitigated any terror of seeing her mother, who had died in a heroic attempt at saving them.

The animosity she felt toward the Romans didn't rise or jump. Was it because she already killed her mother's killer? Was it because she'd already gotten her revenge that she felt nothing?

Unlike Thanas, she hadn't been given time to grieve for her mother. She'd been thrust right into the war, right into striking back at the Eleventh Legion.

Next to her, Leon was watching her carefully. Looking at him, she felt a strong pull... a strong desire. That he was living and breathing, and could smile and laugh. His lips, which she had kissed so often in their spare time, warm and soft against her own. She could imagine their bodies, pressed up against one another. The heat that radiated from his body. His muscles pressed up against her.

Xanthe couldn't imagine how she would feel if she lost him too.

"It's been too long, hasn't it?" he said, noticing her gaze.

She nodded slowly. Looking back at her mother's body, she sighed, "I have lots of memories of her. But... they just feel so distant. Even if it's only been a few years, it feels like we've been fighting the Romans for a decade. I can't... I don't feel much different."

"Well, it's not about suddenly being sad, is it?" Leon's lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smirk. "We're already doing what she wanted. We're fighting the Romans. We're honoring her legacy."

"I killed Florian in the process," she pointed out.

He pressed his lips together. "Unfortunate, yeah. I suppose that wasn't exactly a part of her plan."

"You think?"

He laughed. "Okay, okay. I relent. So you messed up. Big time. What can you do? It's all over now. Time never flows backward."

"Chronos makes sure of that." She laid the blanket back on her mother, as if she was tucking her in for bed. "Good night, Mother. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't become powerful enough to save you. I should have worked harder."

As expected, she was met with silence, but it didn't bother her.

"It's selfish of us, but we continue to live on," she continued. "Leon... that boy we found on the road all those years ago... I fell in love with him, Mother. He's kind and funny and just makes me feel comfortable. He can be a little crazy sometimes. And he smiles and jokes around too much for his own good. Sometimes I feel like just sticking a dagger through his ribs because he gets so annoying. Like, we're fighting a fucking war and you're cracking jokes?"

"That's my job," Leon laughed again.

"But I love him, nonetheless." She grabbed his hand and smiled down at her mother's body. "I don't want to let go of his hand. I'm afraid he'll be taken away from me just like you and Florian. I'm selfish because I want to kill the Romans and continue living ourselves. But, honestly, I don't know anyone else that would think much differently. If we die... we'll die together."

"Not literally, though," he piped in.

She turned to glare at him.

"What? Tell me what the odds are of us being stabbed and killed at the exact same time."

She groaned. "Stop being annoying! I'm trying to send a special message to my mother."

"She can't hear you. At least, according to Thanas."

"Who knows?" Xanthe challenged, jutting her chin out. "Maybe Mother's ghost is just hanging around here, waiting for me to return. She could be listening in on us."

"If she is, then she'll know you're telling the truth."

"What truth?"

"That I'm annoying as shit."

Xanthe groaned again. "I hate you sometimes."

He smiled widely, flashing his slightly crooked teeth, before leaning down and kissing her gently. "I know."

A warm fuzzy feeling blossomed in her chest before a chill ran down her spine. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, harder this time. "Gods, what crazy magic are you using on me?"

"I'm sure Sophia would have known," he said, gesturing to her mother.

"I'm sure she would have," she agreed.

The two of them gave her mother another prayer before moving to bury her in the graveyard. While the Athenians had all been cremated, the majority of demigods didn't hail from the large city and were buried instead. There had been a few deaths in the years she'd been at camp, though they were relatively few in number compared to the death count they'd encountered during the war.

"We may not be destined for greatness," Leon said after they finished. "But at least we've lived life. We've tried to live as best as we could, given our circumstances. Your mom, at least, can respect that."

Xanthe leaned her head on his shoulder. "I hope so. It's definitely not going to get any easier."

She didn't know what the future had in store for them, but she would do her best to fight. If they had to die, they would die. If they were meant to live, they would live. All she wanted, in the present, was to enjoy the free time she had with Leon. She didn't know when it would all come crashing down, when any semblance of a normal life would cease to exist. Because, if she didn't take the time to appreciate what she still had, she would end up like Percy. Lost and trapped inside her own mind, unable to realize that the one she needed was standing right beside her.

Someone behind them cleared their throat.

The two of them whirled around, coming face to face with a very familiar-looking goddess.

"Welcome," she said, raising one of her torches. The world seemed to dissolve around them, Mist swirling and seeping up from the ground.

She and Leon couldn't help but stare at the goddess, who placed her torches down into a brazier made of Mist and produced two vials out of thin air.

"You are the chosen ones. It is time for you to face your final crossroads."


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

_One Year Later_

Xanthe and Leon scouted ahead for any sign of danger.

Percy and Thanas were in the back, lugging the cart with the equipment as they made their way down to Thessalonica.

For a while, Leon looked happy to be back in friendly territory. It had been free from Romans for almost a year now, as the war began to pick up its pace again. Romans had been pushing up from Sparta, hitting successful targets in Athens and Larissa. The Greeks had begun to decentralize operations, separating into regional groups, just like they had been in the past. Though Constantinople remained the Greek stronghold, only the young and defenseless remained, and the administration of course.

Alexandros and Viviana were still the leaders of the war effort, but with territory stretching from Naples to Ankyra, it was almost impossible for the two of them to manage it all.

Percy and Irene had stayed with them to manage Thessaly and Thrace. In the year or so since Thanas had become the general of the Greek forces, the five of them had grown closer and closer. Thanas looked more and more like the Thanas she knew from before Ionna's death. Irene was less guarded and opened up to them, proving that she really was different from other children of Aphrodite.

And, most of all, Percy had changed. His true self was more like Leon than she ever thought possible. He was proud and thought of himself highly, but he was also a jokester and was loyal to a fault.

It helped that every time he looked at them outside of battle, he would burst out into a smile. Even though he still fought like a demon in battle, he took more time to care about allied forces than he used to. She thought that was a step in the right direction.

But, on their way to Thessalonica, something went wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Why is there smoke?" Leon asked, his eyes wide and alert. "Why is there smoke pluming from my village?"

In the distance, a large column of thick, black smoke rose above the treetops. They weren't far from where Xanthe and her mother had dropped Leon off when they were kids, when he returned to his village after accidentally killing his uncle. Xanthe's senses tingled, and she suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Leon wait!" Percy shouted.

But it was too late. Leon had taken off.

Xanthe sprinted after him, leaving Thanas and Percy with the equipment. Leon was fast, and she could hardly keep up with him. She tried to follow his path step-by-step, taking each shortcut he did. They raced through the bushes and crested the hill overlooking the village. They sprinted down like demons toward Leon's family and friends.

In the distance, Xanthe saw Romans fleeing. It wasn't like them to retreat so easily, and Xanthe immediately knew why. The attack wasn't to kill them or attract them to battle. It was a warning. _You destroy our family, we'll destroy yours_.

Half of the village had been razed to the ground, nothing but ash and soot scattered on the ground. The dozens upon dozens of dead bodies lay on the ground in what had clearly been a massacre. None of the villagers had been prepared to fight the legionaries.

It was a terrible sight.

The other half that still stood wasn't in very good shape. There were clear signs of struggle as the Romans had fought through. Xanthe figured the Romans had entered the village from the opposite side, and the villagers in this half were given more time to prepare to fight.

Leon rushed to an old man, who was clutching a bad wound across his forehead. It looked like he'd hit his head across the stone wall he lay next too.

"Elder!" he said desperately. "Elder!"

"Leon...?" the old man's eyes were glossy, but he fixed them on Leon. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Elder. It's me. I'm going to get you help, okay?"

Leon ripped off a chunk of his tunic and wrapped it tightly around the man's wound. Xanthe had a horrible flashback to the day her mother died, where something had been tightly wrapped around a wound across her forehead.

"Xanthe, watch the village elder and signal Percy and Thanas," Leon ordered. His eyes were wild with panic. "I'll help the others."

"Leon!"

It was no use. He ran off without casting a single glance backward.

Xanthe cursed under her breath. If the Romans changed their mind and doubled back and attacked the village again, they would be finished. She looked down at the village elder, who was still groaning in dazed pain. She wasn't a doctor, but she hoped she knew what she was doing by keeping him as still as possible.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity before a voice shouted, "Elder!"

It was a boy, maybe a few years younger than her, holding a gladius, running toward them.

"Help us!" Xanthe shouted at him as he approached. "Where's the doctor?"

The boy quickly decided she wasn't a threat and knelt beside them. He looked at the elder's wrapped forehead and grimaced. He looked up. "The doctor is dead."

"From the attack?"

He nodded.

Xanthe looked around. "Is there anyone else with you? Anyone else alive?"

"Soon," the boy said. "A handful of us went out to kill those bastards and send them to Hell. They're faster than we thought. We retreated, just in case the village is attacked again."

She nodded. Leaning down toward the elder, she said in an assuring voice, "Don't worry. Help will be here soon."

The elder nodded weakly in assent.

When Xanthe looked up, she saw the boy staring at her weirdly.

"Who are you, by the way?"

"I'm Xanthe." She introduced herself quickly. "I came here with Leon."

"Leon?" The boy's ears perked up. "He's here?"

She nodded and pointed toward the undamaged section of the village. "He went that way to help the others. We can't leave the elder alone. We have two more allies coming in from down the path. They're carrying supplies so I'm not sure when they're going to get here, but it shouldn't be long."

"Leon's back..." the boy said, mystified. "When he left... he..."

A blinding flash lit up the sky, accompanied by a thunderclap that nearly blew out her ears.

The boy covered his own ears, wincing in pain. "What in God's name...?"

Xanthe's eyes widened. It was Leon. Had the Romans returned for another strike? Did they change up their strategy? Were they turning back to kill Leon?

A group of armed villagers ran up the main street. They looked like the ragtag team the boy had described. The leader's eyes were wide with fear, and he asked the boy, "What's happening? Are they attacking again?"

"I'll go!" Xanthe said. She pointed at the elder. "Someone needs to attend to him. He has a bad cut on his forehead."

"Who are you?"

She didn't answer, taking off in the direction the lightning had struck.

Racing past the fields and the houses, she eventually found a back road. There were living quarters lined up together. She figured all the houses that worked on a certain set of fields were clumped together. The centralization of the living quarters was good to organize who was working where and when and on which field amongst a larger group of people instead of having disproportionate households working on equal-sized fields. The bad news was that it made for an easy target in a raid.

Leon was fighting alone against a group of six Romans. As far as she could tell, only two villagers had been fighting by his side. Both had been struck down by the legionaries.

A crowd of the villagers had formed, stunned by what they were seeing. They must have been surprised at Leon's sudden appearance, for one. Seeing him actually fight against an enemy must have been shocking. The second was because lightning was literally shooting out of his hands. Their mortal minds must have been working hard to unsee what they were seeing, but the Mist was weak from centuries of war between the Greeks and Romans. The gods were inactive due to all the fighting. No one capable enough was managing to hold the barrier.

She shoved her way through them, drawing her sword and joining Leon in the fight.

"Together!" she shouted.

He nodded, and they locked swords.

The sky turned dark as newly-formed clouds rolled in. The winds began to pick up, swirling around them faster and faster, turning into an inescapable vortex.

"Get the mother!" one of the Romans shouted, knowing that this was their last chance.

Xanthe almost lost focus. That was why they'd come back. Their plan was to take Leon's mother hostage, have a bargaining chip and bend him to their will. Whoever was leading the Thirteenth Legion had to be smart. How could they figure out Leon's weakness so easily?

Leon's rage only grew, and the winds became even harsher. It was almost impossible to see within the radius of the storm. No human could open their eyes without the immense burn of the winds whipping around them.

Then, Leon let go and charged forward. The storm seemed to condense around him, turning him into a tornado. He cut the Romans down, ensuring that no more damage was done to the village. Except for the miniature storm that threw up the soil and crops.

Xanthe felt drained. She'd used up a lot of energy to conjure the storm that Leon fed off of.

When the Romans were dead, Leon let the winds go, and they flew off in every direction, finally free from the son of Zeus' grasp. The dark clouds rolled away, and the storm's chill was replaced by the warm spring air.

Leon turned around. His eyes scanned the crowd for something, and when he found it, his eyes lit up. He marched over and found a beautiful older woman and hugged her.

_His mother_, she thought.

The crowd backed away, still staring at Leon in a sort of daze.

Leon pulled away and held his mother's shoulders at arm's length. "Gods, I don't know what I would've done if they took you. I'm so glad you're safe."

His mother stared at him in disbelief. She blinked a couple times. "_Gods_?"

For a moment, Leon looked confused. Then the alarm went off in his head. There was a flash of panic in his eyes, but he tried to act as if everything was fine. "I said 'God', mother. Are you hearing things?"

"You just..." She looked at his hands warily and then up at the sky. "You just..."

Leon slowly looked up at the crowd around him. The ragtag group of armed villagers and the boy had made it to the crowd. There was no doubt that they'd just seen what had happened. His expression fell as he seemed to come to the realization that they'd all just seen what he'd done.

"The Mist..." he mumbled.

Xanthe felt the urge to reach out to him and comfort him, but she didn't have the confidence to do it in front of all the people he grew up with.

"You gave birth to a demon," one of the other women told Leon's mother. She was shaking her head in stunned disbelief. "He shoots lightning from his fingertips. He's not a gift from God. He's a curse from Hell."

"Aunt—"

The woman cut Leon off before he could say any more, her eyes blazing with anger. "I'm not your aunt. I ceased to be your aunt the moment you ran away from here with those lunatics chasing you. You brought your mother more bad luck than the rest of the village has suffered combined! My _sister_, who has had to deal with people talking about her as a single parent in this wretched world, has suffered immensely. You... being with you brought our brother to his untimely demise. How can you explain that, boy? How can you explain your survival and his death? I've kept my mouth shut for years because I didn't want to upset my sister, but here we are. It's the end, boy. Now everyone has seen, with their own eyes, what a curse you have been on our village."

Leon looked like he'd just been stabbed in the gut.

Xanthe's eyes scanned the crowd. No one could look up at Leon. Their expressions ranged from horror to distaste to guilt. Not everyone agreed with his aunt. She could tell that much. But most of them did. Most of them thought he was a burden on them.

"I just wanted to save you..." Leon trailed off. "Elder. Mother. Aunt Martina. I... I couldn't stand to see them destroy my home. I just wanted to—"

"This isn't your home," his aunt sneered. "It hasn't been for the past three years. You haven't even sent a message back telling your mother if you were okay or not. You let her hang onto the belief that you were okay and well."

"I... am okay and well," he said.

"A demon. That's what you are."

"Stop, Martina," Leon's mother said, stepping in between them. She looked torn. "Leon did nothing wrong. He's not a demon."

"Did you not see the sorcery that sprouted from the tips of his fingers?! He brought misfortune upon all of us!"

"You're right," Leon said, hanging his head. "I did bring all of this upon you."

"Leon..." His mother stared at him incredulously. "Don't... don't say that. You just—"

"It _is_ my fault, mother," he said, this time a little more forcefully. He turned to her. "Think about all those years, raising me in a world that seemed to haunt you. You were terrified of all the creatures that you were seeing. You were stressed out because you were afraid something bad was going to happen to me. You prayed to God that it would end soon, but it never ended. Because you were sick, you had to send me off to Uncle Kyros, and that day when I returned to the village without him it was because I killed him. I _killed_ Uncle Kyros because I accidentally discovered my powers. I killed him when he punched me off the cart and I got angry."

"You didn't do that!" she insisted. "You did nothing wrong!"

"All those years, from the day Uncle died to the day those Romans came for me, I'd been training behind your backs. I'd defeated countless monsters in the woods and forests around here. In Thessalonica, I learned about who I really am, where I really come from. I'm half god, and I don't mean _God_. I mean the old pagan gods. The reason why you thought it must have been your God is because my father is Zeus, the king of Olympus. He's the closest to God a Greek god can get."

Xanthe caught his mother as she stumbled back, losing her balance in shock as her son finally revealed the secrets he'd kept hidden over the years. Xanthe met Leon's eyes and shot him a comforting look. She understood that he wanted to lift the burden. She would've wanted to rant as well. But he needed to stay calm. The Romans weren't very far out.

"I left because I couldn't protect you alone," Leon continued after taking a deep breath. "I would've died if I stayed, and me dying would only hurt you. I couldn't let that happen. I left to train and fight with people like me, people who are half god and half human. We're going to destroy the Romans. I won't let them harm you or anyone here again."

His aunt scowled and looked at his mother. "Don't listen to him. He'll just get up and leave again. He brings nothing but misfortune."

"You don't have to believe what I'm saying, mother," he said, ignoring his aunt's stinging words. "I just want you to be safe. You can hate me for the rest of your life and think that I'm a curse. That won't change how I feel about you. You are my mother. Nothing will change that. And I won't let those Romans hurt you."

Xanthe held her breath as his mother turned to face her. She was beautiful. It must have been why Zeus had fallen for her and why Leon was so good-looking himself. The woman looked like she was searching for some sort of confirmation or indication that this was all just a big prank. Xanthe kept her gaze level and calm. She hoped it rubbed off.

Leon's mother reached up and touched her cheek.

"You wield demonic powers yet you feel and look human," Leon's mother muttered. "You should be creatures form Hell, but your eyes tell a different story. You're such a beautiful young lady. It would be a waste if you were just one of Satan's servants."

"We may have demonic powers, but we each have a human's soul," she replied. "I promise."

"I... I believe you."

"What?" Aunt Martina exclaimed. She looked like she was about to be run over by a horse. "You believe that... that _thing_ you've known for less than an hour but not your own sister?"

"I'm not a _thing_," Xanthe spat through clenched teeth. Aunt Martina was getting on her nerves. "Maybe Leon _shouldn't_ have saved your life and let you die at the hands of those soldiers."

"Xanthe, stop," Leon intervened. He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. He flashed her his trademark smile. "If we fight anger and hate with more anger and hate, we'll become what Percy once was... _still_ is."

"I know, but she's pissing me off!"

Leon's mother put a hand on Leon's cheek, and then on his chest, as if she was trying to feel for something that would confirm he was indeed her son and not just a demon.

"My head feels like bursting," she told him.

Leon gave her a sympathetic look. "I know it does. Mine did too when I first found out."

"This isn't the time for chatter," Aunt Martina interrupted. She stopped forward with one of the pikes, still fuming. "Let my sister go and we will let you free. Otherwise, we'll put your heads on two pikes and let your souls rot in Hell!"

"I don't think you're capable of doing that," a voice said from the back of the crowd.

It was Percy's.

There was a clap, and then a shout: "Sleep!"

And, instantly, the crowd—including Leon's mother—collapsed on the spot. Xanthe stumbled, trying to catch her.

"Mother!" Leon immediately dropped to a knee to check if she was okay.

Percy brushed his hands off and looked at the crowd. The bags under his eyes looked pronounced, even from a distance. He let out a yawn. "Well, that was tiring. Haven't put a crowd to sleep like this in years."

"You..." Xanthe was speechless. "The whole crowd..."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm about ready to pass out." Percy glanced at Leon's mother. "Looks like Thanas and I will be headed back to Thessalonica with a guest."

"You and Thanas?"

"I saw a large group of Romans circling around," Percy explained, pointing toward the main road. "You and Leon need to cover us."

Xanthe glanced worriedly at Leon's mother.

"Can you handle it?" Percy asked.

Leon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, recollecting himself. When he opened his eyes, she could see the determination shining in his electric blue eyes. He would overcome this, and he would fight off the Romans to save his mother. "We can," he replied confidently.

"Good. I'll leave it in your hands."

"What about the villagers?" Xanthe asked.

Percy looked toward Leon.

The son of Zeus hesitated for a moment, but decided, "We'll leave them here. They'll be fine, right Percy?"

"Should be. They won't be asleep for long."

Leon nodded, locking his eyes on the unconscious form of his aunt. He gave her a sad look, as if he was disappointed. Xanthe couldn't tell if he was disappointed _in_ her or _because of_ her, but she didn't like to see him sad. She instinctively reached out and grabbed his hand. He didn't turn to face her, but he squeezed back tightly, like he didn't want to let her go.

"Stay safe," Percy said knowingly, a twinkle in his eyes and a genuine, wide smile splitting his face. He lowered himself to a knee and picked Leon's mother up with ease. Either she was light, or he was strong. It was probably a mixture of both.

Xanthe and Leon stood there for a while and watched him walk away toward the road. She knew it wasn't smart of them to stand, exposed, in the middle of the village. But there wasn't much she could do. Leon wouldn't take his eyes off his mother.

She remembered the feeling when she saw her mother at the camp the day she died, after years without direct contact, and how excited and elated she felt until the few moments before her death. She loved her mother. At the very least, Leon's mother wasn't dead. Leon would be able to see her again, unlike her own mother, who died on that hill.

"Thank you, Xanthe," Leon said, finally turning to her and pulling her in for an embrace. "I'm sorry that I'm such a mess right now."

"You consoled me when I went to visit my mother," she said. "This is nothing."

"Yeah, but you didn't cry," Leon argued.

"I was still sad."

"Yeah but—"

"Are we really going to argue about this when we have a bunch of Roman asses to kick?"

"That wouldn't be ideal," Leon said, letting out a quiet chuckle.

Xanthe smiled and squeezed him tight. "Good boy. Now, let's find the bastards who did this to your village."

They raced down into the wilderness in the direction of the attackers. Xanthe never left his side as they hurried to find the enemy, keeping pace with him even as he surged forward at almost full speed. It didn't take long to find the nearest group Romans, considering their conversation with the villagers was brief, but when they saw who was leading them, they stopped in their tracks.

"You!" Leon's eyes lit up when he saw the man. "I thought... I thought we destroyed the Eleventh!"

Marcus, the monster that killed her mother, laughed.

Spreading his arms out like he was expecting them, he gave them a cruel smile. "Do you think I would be stupid enough to stay there after failing to successfully defeat you at your pitiful little camp? I knew there would be a counterattack. I just never thought that it would be executed by a small group of misfits like you. Do not take me as a blind fool. I am a descendant of Mars, the god of war."

Xanthe hardly noticed that she was squeezing Leon's hand until it was white. She could do nothing but stare forward at the Roman leader. She thought she'd killed him three years ago at the camp. A confused mixture of anger, regret and sorrow swirled in her chest. Leon squeezed her hand back three times, and she focused her attention on him.

Leave it to the son of Zeus to keep her grounded.

"Young love," Marcus sighed with a smile. "Oh, I wish I could go back to those days. When I was younger, I fell in love with a local, in fact. She was from Thebes. A beautiful young lady named Sophia."

Xanthe tensed up again.

"She was a clear-sighted mortal," he reminisced. "Beautiful indeed, but our legion was to move onward. And after what happened later..." He didn't finish his thought, and his mouth twisted into a scowl. "This was back when Iustinus was the emperor. What a terrible choice for an emperor. He was but a herder of swine. From a family of fools, not a family destined for greatness. And he was not even a full Greek at that. He was some Thraco-Greek or Illyro-Greek hybrid. I suppose, after all, that makes him better than a Greek demigod like you two, but for the throne of Rome... I must say the Eastern Empire continues to disappoint."

"I thought this wasn't the _real _throne," Leon challenged, likely trying to figure out a plan. "The _real_ throne of Rome fell with Italia."

"A disgrace is a disgrace regardless," Marcus snapped.

"I thought Diocletian was the last demigod to rule Rome," Leon asked. "Didn't he work his way up from nothing? He was a son of Zeus—"

"Jupiter!" Marcus growled. "You filthy Greeks think that you're the center of the universe. Well then how is it that Rome became the most powerful civilization this world has ever seen!"

"Because we were too busy fighting ourselves?" he suggested.

Marcus snarled and unsheathed his sword. "I will have your head!"

"Sophia..." Xanthe muttered. The world around her was registering, but it felt like her head wasn't working properly. Why did it sound so familiar? "Thebes..."

"Xanthe..." Leon said, his nerves making his voice crack. He summoned Koptos. "Xanthe, we've got a bit bigger of a problem than Sophia and Thebes."

She looked up at the Roman, as the realization hit her like a bull. "She was fifteen when you met. You had a child named Florian, a boy you told her to send to the legion when he was old enough."

Marcus' eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know that?"

All these years, when she had spoken to Leon and Thanas about her half-brother in the Eleventh Legion, sometimes she forgot that he was actually a legacy. He was a descendant of Mars, from an illustrious and long-standing family. Now that she took a long look at Marcus, she could see parts of Florian in him. The same determined, confident look stared back at her, and her knees suddenly felt wobbly.

The Romans seemed hesitant. They looked to their confused leader, whose brain worked overtime to figure out who this girl was.

But before anyone could take advantage of the moment, Marcus burst into laughter. "You? You're the blasted Greek scum that Sophia gave birth to? Oh, this is wonderful! Florian would've loved to see you here like this. He never would have believed it. For months he tried to convince me that he had a daughter of Neptune for a sister, and finally I meet you at last! Thank the gods I never went back to that wretched woman."

"Wretched woman...?" Xanthe's eyes turned dangerously bright.

That was why Marcus had laughed when Sophia stood against him. That was why he had hesitated when he made the order to throw javelins at her. That was why he'd waited until the last moment until he dove out of the way of her blast of magic.

"It was hard at first," Marcus sighed, "seeing Sophia on the other side of the battlefield. But I did what had to be done. She was already weakened, and she was helping the enemy. Throwing the _pila_ was the hard part. Watching her die was easy."

Leon clenched his fists.

"Isn't that funny?" Marcus asked his Roman companions. "I killed the girl's mother, my old lover. And I decided to let the boy's mother, that stupid Christian woman, live? Does that not seem odd?"

Xanthe was trembling with anger.

She knew the Romans would be receiving reinforcements sometime soon. Marcus clearly thought he had the upper hand with numbers and with military training. But there was one piece of knowledge he had no hope in knowing.

Leon summoned Koptos and charged.

Xanthe, right on his heels, drew her sword.

Marcus' eyes lit up with glee. "Running to your deaths?"

The Roman line locked shields.

Marcus had seen a tiny glimpse of their powers. He saw that they could fight against multiple enemies and win. But he must have thought that as long as he was commanding the troops, fighting on the front lines, that the two of them would be defeatable. Especially since there were only two of them.

Wrong.

Leon let loose a blast of thunder and lightning, all directly aimed at Marcus.

Electricity arced from his sword and blasted forward with blinding power. Marcus didn't even know what hit him. He flew backwards, his hair darkened with soot. He was probably still alive, Xanthe thought, but he lay unmoving on the ground.

Leon slashed to the right, and Xanthe took the Romans on the left.

Summoning the winds to his command, Leon flew right over the top of their heads before they could blink. Two of the five were dead before they could even turn. He blasted them again with more lightning, a storm cloud gathering above him. He battered them with the wind, just as the Eleventh had battered them all those years ago with their _aquila_, and struck down his opponents with ease.

Xanthe had gone on a similar tear, just using brute force. When she was angry, she looked truly scary. A miniature storm of her own surrounded her, pushing the Romans back and deflecting all their strikes. She cut them down one by one until no-one remained.

They both glanced at Marcus' body.

Xanthe took a step forward, raising her sword as if to strike, when Irene suddenly burst out of the woods.

"Stop!"

Her charmspeak washed over them, and Xanthe dropped her sword arm.

"Leon, help me tie him up," she commanded.

Leon nodded immediately. It took him a moment to realize that she hadn't used her charmspeak powers, but when he looked at Xanthe, he understood. Her eyes were glossy; Irene was preventing her from killing the Roman.

"We're taking him prisoner," Irene continued. "Don't worry. You'll get your chance to talk to him. But not like this."

"I..." Leon trailed off. She was right. If they succumbed to hatred, like Percy, what would they become?

He obliged and followed her orders.

But it didn't occur to him until a few days later that Irene had literally come out of nowhere. Especially since she'd left for Thessalonica hours before they did. Especially because she greeted Percy like she'd been in Thessalonica the whole time.

It had begun. The final stage.

It was time to save Percy.


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

As soon as they arrived in Thessalonica, Irene concocted some sort of sleeping potion and fed it to Marcus. She gave them a sphere, almost identical to the ones Percy kept his memories in, and told them to get some rest.

Naturally, they tried to argue, but she was firm, and they supposed it was for the better. In the heat of the moment, who knows how brutally they would have mangled Marcus' body.

Instead, they decided to watch the memory inside the sphere.

"Thanas said it was disturbing," Xanthe warned. "It made him horrified and angry, enough to get him to actually react as if he was experiencing it in real life."

Leon took a deep breath. "We have to see it, though. She gave it to us for a reason. She wants us to understand why we're like this, why she's the way she is."

"But if Thanas found it disturbing—"

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "We may both be utterly horrified, but remember that it's only a memory. Watch it like you're analyzing a situation. Figure out how we can save Percy."

"I would kiss you if I wasn't so anxious," she muttered.

"Would it comfort you?"

She nodded.

Leon smiled and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. "There. Remember that we're not there. We're just reliving her memory."

She nodded and squeezed his hand once more. She took the sphere with her free hand and cracked it open, placing it on the floor as it released the misty memory. It rose from the sphere slowly and steadily, filling the room.

The Mist looked like smoke, a dark cloud of gas surrounding them. Leon felt like he should have been suffocating, but it felt no different than breathing outside at the water's edge. The Mist formed itself into moving images around them, and they were thrust into the horrifying memory of Irene's past.

It was day time, and they were standing at the front steps of a magnificent palace. Its gates were golden, with beautiful marble pillars standing guard.

Xanthe gasped. She was looking out over the city, out into the distance where the shoreline glittered in the sunlight. Far in the distance, land jutted out into the sea, small enough to be visible from atop the hill of the palace, but large enough that it could probably hold the camp of an enormous army.

"This is Troy," Xanthe said.

A feeling of dread filled his chest as he turned back to the people standing in the courtyard.

There she was, young Irene, likely not older than ten, standing next to a young man and a middle-aged man as they bowed to the Trojan royals. Leon didn't recognize who was who, but he knew, somehow, that they were her brother and father, respectively. And the Trojan royals were lined up right across from them.

These were legends and stories to him and Xanthe. And Irene had been one of them.

"Welcome," the eldest Trojan royal said to the bowing Trio. "It must have been an arduous journey from Dardanus, dear Anchises."

"It was, King Priam," the middle-aged man chuckled. He gestured to his two companions. "My children do keep me in good company, though."

"Prince Aeneas," King Priam said, spreading his arms out for an embrace. His mouth was turned upward in a smile, but his eyes were full of hesitation and caution. "It is good to see you again after so many weeks."

Aeneas accepted the embrace, though he didn't look particularly happy about it. "As it is to see you again, King Priam."

Leon turned to look at Xanthe, who was staring at him, equally shocked. They knew Irene was a daughter of Aphrodite. But she and Percy had been relatively secret about her background. They never said anything about it, though it didn't really matter to the Trio. Percy and Irene were their mentors in the present, regardless of their past.

In spite of all that, they were here, watching a memory, discovering that Irene had been _the_ daughter of Aphrodite. Of all children of Aphrodite, only one had ever made his or her mark on history: Aeneas. He was legendary to Romans. He was their founder and their prized ancestor. He embodied the last living spirit of the Trojan royal line.

From all the talks with Percy and dreams of his past, they knew that Aeneas' descendants had been killed, by Percy personally, centuries ago.

That meant Irene was the last living Trojan royal.

King Priam smiled and knelt down in front of Irene. "And you were but a baby when I last saw you, Irene."

Irene glanced up at Anchises, who nudged her to go on. She nodded and bowed again to Priam. "Although I can't remember the last time we met, it is an honor to see you again, King Priam."

"Perhaps this time you shall remember," King Priam chuckled. The tension and animosity that existed between the Trojan king and Aeneas didn't exist between the king and Irene. "Do you want to greet your cousins?"

They all went in a random order.

Hector was present, along with Andromache. There was Paris with no Helen in sight. There was Cassandra and Creusa, the to-be-wife of Aeneas. And Helenus was there too. It wasn't until Irene got to the end that the chill went up Leon's spine.

"I'm Deiphobus," the last man introduced. He gave her a long look, up and down. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Irene," she introduced, smiling for courtesy's sake.

"You're already so beautiful for a young lady," Deiphobus remarked, a suggestive smile dancing across his lips. "Your mother must have blessed you. Surely, you will become an even prettier young woman. I'm certain of it."

"Stop trying to be so flattering," Hector sighed. "She's still a child. She won't understand."

_I didn't understand_, Irene's voice narrated. _I wouldn't understand even after it all began. Not until a year after the torturous hell that I endured. And, even then, no one would stop it till the day Paris died._

The scene switched to night time inside the palace, and the true terror began.

It was too graphic to describe, too stunning to properly process, too angering to think about rationally.

To put the action in as few words as possible: it was rape.

And not just a single instance of rape. The memory wasn't just one memory, but a whole collection of memories. It went through years and years and years of sexual abuse. It happened frequently. It felt like it was a daily occurrence. Maybe it was. The sequences were moving too fast for him to count.

It continued to happen, right from when she had a child's body, through her growing phase. She knew it was bad at the age of eleven. By the time she was about thirteen, she began to truly understand the terror her life had become. And every time she called out for help, no one was there to help her. Not even her brother, who simply turned away and said, "Wait, we'll get revenge in the future."

Not only was she enduring some of the cruelest and most savage abuse Leon had ever seen, but war raged on outside the city's walls. The Trojan War had come. And, despite that fact, Deiphobus kept coming and coming and coming and coming.

Xanthe was in hysteric tears, holding her hands over her mouth and sobbing. His pep talk before they started watching wasn't enough for him to keep holding her hand. He felt like a tree, rooted to the spot and as still as could be.

Irene, as a child, began to learn about to fight back, taking secret lessons from Hector on how to fight. But that only made Deiphobus crueler and rougher.

Irene probably should have died from a plethora of diseases and infections from all the damage she took from Deiphobus. But she continued to live, as though the gods wanted to prolong her suffering.

By the time she was fifteen, the sixth year of the war, she'd given up. Servants and maids and attendants kept an eye on her, preventing her from killing herself, and carefully monitoring her when she practiced her weapons skills. Even after six years, no one batted an eye when she tried to tell them what was happening.

Even graceful Hector, who seemed to feel sorry for her, said he couldn't interfere. He had a war to fight.

Aeneas continued to make excuses, saying that it was natural for men to do such things, that he needed the Trojans' attention on the war so that he could ultimately win and take the throne.

Irene began to hate the world. Leon could feel it.

She hated her brother for what he was letting happen to her. She hated the Trojans for turning their backs on her when she was suffering so much. She hated the Greeks for fighting this stupid war and distracting everyone from what was happening to her.

Then, Paris died, and Deiphobus married Helen.

The abuse ceased immediately, but the damage had been done.

It was all supposed to end that night, the night that Troy fell.

"What's going on?" Irene asked her attendant, hearing the screams from outside.

The woman was freaking out. "The Greeks are here! They were hiding in the horse! By the gods, we need to escape!"

"What?"

"They're going to kill us all!" the attendant cried. She was collecting her things. "We have to escape! Now!"

"Through the back?" Irene asked.

The attendant nodded. "Aeneas is leading a group. They're meeting up at the gate."

"Aeneas?" Irene's voice turned cold. There was a dark glint in her eyes. "Is Creusa with him?"

"Of... of course..."

An idea seemed to form in Irene's mind, and Leon didn't like the look she was giving the attendant. Irene turned on her heel, walking toward the bed. She went over to the cupboard and produced a sword.

"Irene, what are you doing?" the attendant asked in surprise. "We can't afford to fight. We have to leave, or we'll die!"

"Ah, survival instincts..." Irene stalked over toward her, clutching the hilt of the sword tightly. She looked as deadly as she did beautiful. "It's natural, isn't it? To want to survive? Unless you're broken and beaten to the point where you feel you and your life is worse than death. Except... people are told to suck it up and live, even when life is a depressing shithole. They're told to suck it up and live, enduring and remembering the unspeakable things that were done to them."

The attendant's eyes glimmered with worry. "Listen, Irene... I was following orders. Deiphobus... he would've killed me if I didn't obey him."

"And now you've become _my_ attendant, now that Deiphobus left me, ordered by King Priam himself," Irene said with a cold sneer. "I am the princess of Dardanus, sister of Aeneas, and a royal heir to the lineage of Tros!"

The attendant realized what was going to happen and immediately turned.

But the chubby woman was no match for someone who had been trained by the best warrior in all of the Troad. She was no match for someone who had nothing left to lose, who was ready to give her life for revenge.

Irene cut her down, stabbing her twice in the chest to make sure the job was finished.

"Now... time for the rest of them..."

She walked through the palace, cutting down each and every servant she could find. She didn't discriminate between Trojan civilian, Trojan soldier or Greek soldier. She didn't discriminate between man, woman, boy or girl. It didn't matter if they looked upper-class, or were lower-class citizens, she killed anyone in her sight.

"Back gate?" Irene muttered, seemingly looking for her brother.

Seeing the fall of Troy visually was almost as terrifying as watching the abuse Irene had suffered. Soldiers were raping, pillaging and looting. Several were even cannibalizing others, almost as some sign of victory.

As Irene navigated through the city, eventually she found her target.

Aeneas was leading a small group, which included Andromache, Hector's wife, toward the rear of the city, away from all the fighting. Irene rushed forward, ducking through buildings as she tried to cut down the angles and reach the group.

No, she wasn't trying to reach the group. She was trying to _pass_ them.

Irene slipped into an alley and drew a cut on her left arm, giving herself a nasty-looking injury.

As the group passed, she stumbled forward, leaning on her sword.

"Creusa!" Irene called out. "Brother!"

Both Creusa and Aeneas turned, seeing her, eyes widening in shock.

Irene collapsed to the ground. If it wasn't for the fact that he could see Irene's hidden face, he might've believed that she was actually injured. But all she was doing was putting on a really, really good act.

"Irene!" Aeneas glanced at the group and gritted his teeth. "Help her, Creusa. I'll get the others closer to the exit. I'll come back for you two when I'm done."

Creusa nodded and dropped to a knee to help her.

"Irene, can you stand up?"

Irene took a shaky breath. She put her hand on the wound, pressing it hard. It hurt more than she'd expected. When she drew her trembling hand away, it was stained red with fresh blood. Not that it mattered. Her clothes were splattered with the blood of dead Trojans and Greeks.

Creusa grabbed a cloth from her sack and wrapped it tightly around Irene's arm. "Here, this should stop the wound from getting worse."

"I..."

"If it's too painful, you don't have to say anything," her sister-in-law told her. "You'll need the energy for the escape."

There was a roar from somewhere back in the chaos. The air around them suddenly turned frigid. The winds began to pick up, like a swirling storm was forming. They couldn't hear it through their ears, but Leon's mind was processing some sort of scream, like the cry of an agonized warrior. It must have been Percy.

"The son of Poseidon..." Creusa whispered, looking over her shoulder in fear. "The only one strong enough to defeat Achilles."

Irene suddenly jabbed her sword into the ground and tried to use it to balance as she pulled herself up to her feet. Creusa snapped to attention, giving her all the extra support she needed.

Looking at Creusa, she didn't strike Leon as particularly evil or conniving. She was just a woman who wanted to help her sister-in-law. Even though Leon knew where this vision was headed, he couldn't help but think that Creusa didn't deserve such a cruel fate.

Creusa gave Irene a weak smile. "Use my shoulder as a crutch. We can use the sword for protection just in case—"

Without warning, Irene drove the sword into Creusa's chest. Her sister-in-law and cousin gasped in shock.

"Doesn't feel so good to be a tool, does it?" Irene snarled, twisting the blade and slamming Creusa into the wall. She hadn't even been listening to Creusa's words, too caught up in her fury. "It's too bad you had to be Aeneas' wife. You wouldn't have suffered such a fate if you had been lucky."

"I'm... sorry..." Creusa croaked.

Then she went limp, and Irene yanked the sword away. She let go, watching as Creusa's body hit the stone pavement.

She walked down the alleyway and turned back one last time.

Aeneas burst around the corner, clearly expecting Creusa to be tending to Irene's wound. When he saw his wife lying motionless on the ground with a bloody wound in her chest, he dropped to his knees instantly. His eyes trailed up toward Irene, who was staring at him coldly.

"You..." Aeneas looked mystified, as if he couldn't believe it.

"As of this moment, you are no longer a Trojan prince," Irene told him. "You are no longer a Dardanid prince. Escape and survive. But live knowing that you abandoned your home and your city. Live knowing that you abandoned your family so you can watch the sun rise another day. I wish nothing but eternal pain and suffering for you and your soul. Just like what I had to endure for the past decade."

"Irene!" he screamed, his voice full of pain and sorrow from the grief of losing his wife and the betrayal he felt from his sister's actions. "You wench!"

"If I survive all this," she said icily, "I will make sure your descendants never stop suffering. They will all suffer a cruel fate, just like their ancestral aunt. Just like Creusa. And I will be there when you die to make sure your body never receives the respect it doesn't deserve."

She turned and walked away. The Mist dissipated.

The vision was over.


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Given the circumstances, anyone can commit an unthinkable evil. That's what Leon gathered from Irene's memory.

That was the only thing staying his blade as he stared at Marcus' sleeping form.

"I'll check on your mother," Percy said. He put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't kill him. Not yet."

Leon nodded. If he could take a break, see Irene's old memory, and fall asleep before even laying eyes on the bastard Roman, then he could restrain himself. Though, looking at Marcus only made him angrier by the second.

The immortal hero nodded back and left the room.

Thanas stepped forward. "Let me go first. I didn't see what happened. This man has no ties to me. Both of you will act irrationally if he provokes you."

Leon didn't like that the son of Hades was right, but he backed off. Xanthe followed suit with great hesitance. Thanas probably should've been more wary of _her_. She looked like she was ready to unleash an earthquake that would swallow them up. Had it not been for the fact that Irene had intervened on the battlefield, Xanthe surely would've killed the Roman. It looked like it took every fibre of her being to restrain herself.

Both of them watched as Thanas approached Marcus wielding a thick metal rod about as long as his arm.

Marcus' eyes twitched, and the man groaned as he opened his eyes. He blinked wearily as he tried to discern where he was.

"Welcome to the interrogation room," Thanas introduced, standing in front of him. He gestured to Leon and Xanthe. "I believe you three are acquainted?"

Marcus turned and squinted. He recognized them instantly and sneered. "You little ingrate shits!"

"Now, now." Thanas jabbed him in the chest with the metal rod. "Watch your language. You're not the one calling the shots here. Now, I'm sure your loyalty to Rome will make it difficult to extract any useful information out of you, but even if you don't crack, I'm sure Leon and Xanthe here would love to see you suffer."

Marcus growled. "You know nothing about the might of Rome. Even if a handful of us fall, all of your family and friends are doomed. Once the legion arrives, you stand no chance!"

"I'd beg to differ!" Xanthe snapped.

Thanas put up a hand to stop her and gave her a sharp look. "Easy, Xanthe."

"You miserable fools!" Marcus shifted in his binds, struggling to break free. "My lineage is one of Rome's most famous families! We were right there next to Caesar as he crossed the Rubicon! We were right there as he rose to power! We were right there to fight alongside his true heir, Octavian! Three measly Greek demigods will not stop me or my children. My life means nothing now that my children are of age!"

"Your family has quite the twisted history," Thanas remarked. "Three sons. Three daughters. Excess of either are killed as babies. Then, when the youngest son is of age, or when the oldest son turns thirty, they duel to the death, and the ultimate victor becomes the family heir. The daughters choose three women, once again to bear the children, but ultimately themselves are never to wed or have kids of their own. Unless, of course, the sons are rendered infertile or succumb to sickness. What was it? Five sons is the maximum?"

Leon and Xanthe glanced at each other. Did Irene tell him that?

"It has worked for generations," Marcus gloated. "Why stop now? I was the strongest of my brothers. I earned my place in history."

"Except now all your sons and daughters are dead," Thanas countered. "They died when we destroyed the Eleventh Legion. They died when we hunted them down as they tried to flee."

Marcus grinned evilly. "Not all of them. Florian still remains."

Leon immediately grabbed onto Xanthe's hand.

"What?" She looked floored. "He's alive?"

"He's my child!" Marcus exclaimed. "He wouldn't be stupid enough to stay there at that camp!" The Roman turned to Xanthe. "He's still alive. It turns out you never killed your half-brother! I bet it wore you down, ate at your conscience, each and every day you thought you killed someone you cherished."

Xanthe was shaking. "What do you mean he's alive?! Where is he?!"

"He knows who you are now, little girl. He knows you're a filthy Greek and that you destroyed his home, his friends, and his family. If I cannot do it, _he_ will hunt you down and raise his sword against you, even if you can't. _You_ are the reason your mother died. For being a Greek! For being a traitor!"

"No..." She looked speechless, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. "I..."

Thanas brought the metal rod down angrily on Marcus' knee. Marcus knowed in pain, wobbling the chair back and forth.

"You're all traitors!" Marcus spat, hissing in agony. "You think I'm the evil one, but you are the ones that hunted down and murdered my entire family. You are a band of hypocrites, blinded by your ignorance. Live in your bubble and enjoy it while you can. One day, we will come knocking and destroy everything you hold dear, just as you did to Aeneas and Troy!"

Leon imagined the multitude of ways he wanted to torture the man. He remembered the cruel punishments Percy had suffered, like with Dharma, and the inhumane treatment Irene had faced at the hands of those very Trojans. But he bit his tongue to control his anger. Percy would _not_ be happy if he returned to a dead captive. Instead, he focused on Xanthe, knowing a million thoughts must have been racing through her mind. Even he had questions about Florian. Was he really still alive? Then why hadn't they found him in all their adventures?

Thanas smashed Marcus' other knee and growled, "It's not our fault that Paris decided to seduce and kidnap Helen. I'm sure the Trojans would've known that _all_ the suitors had a pact to come to the winner's aid if anything happened to Helen."

"Venus awarded Paris with a prize!"

"That doesn't make it right!"

"The gods ultimately decided what is right and wrong!"

"So then the Greeks were justified when Athena, Hera and Poseidon supported them in their war against Troy?"

"Your swine gods are worthless! Jupiter is the king of the gods. He makes the final decisions. And he chose the side of our ancestors!"

"Only because Achilles asked him to," a voice said from the doorway. "Not because Zeus wanted to."

Irene strode into the room, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Who are you?" Marcus spat.

Irene smiled coldly. "The last surviving Trojan."

Marcus looked her up and down and scoffed. "Trojan, my arse. You're as Greek as they come."

"That's because when Troy still stood, we were only a few generations removed from Greek settlers," Irene continued. She shrugged and took the metal rod from Thanas' hands. "But Rome's lineage doesn't come from true Trojans. The true Trojans were scattered across the north and west. Ascanius, my little nephew, ended up leading the Trojans to Alba Longa while my brother stayed with the Latin tribe. Ultimately, the Romans descended from the Latins."

She paused and looked Marcus up and down.

"I must admit, though," she continued, "despite their differences, there is some shared history between Latins and the Greeks. But the Trojans of old were much closer to the Greeks than the Latins. It was generations of Latins and native Italic peoples that forged the Rome you know. Aeneas was just one piece of the puzzle."

Marcus stared at her, confused.

Leon shuddered as he was reminded of Irene's old memory. Aeneas may have been a hero to the Romans, but he wasn't without faults. The Greeks knew that well. Their greatest heroes had some of the greatest faults of all. In fact, aside from Perseus, the greater the hero, the greater the faults.

"Regardless, I'm not here to lecture you about your misconceptions," Irene sighed, "and I am obviously biased due to my difficult relationship with Aeneas. What I'm here for is information. You have spies in the emperor's court, powerful enough that their disappearance would be alarming. Justinian is being swayed to grant your wish. If you don't want to die, you'll inform us of your next steps. Otherwise..." She leaned down and gave him a cold snarl. "You can enjoy your trip to the Fields of Punishment."

Percy must not have trusted them to interrogate Marcus on their own. His hunch was right. Without Irene, Thanas probably would have snapped Marcus' limbs in anger. Even worse, Xanthe might've snapped and demanded to know about Florian. With how delusional Marcus was, Xanthe would never have gotten a straight answer, and she would have killed him. And Leon wouldn't stop her.

Marcus spat in Irene's face.

Xanthe tensed and took a step forward, but Irene simply held a hand up. She wiped it away and gave the Roman a hard look. "You lack the respect and discipline expected of a Roman. Are you sure you're not just a brute?"

"I don't respect lesser beings."

Xanthe growled, "She isn't lesser than you, you ugly shit face! She is the last living princess of Troy!"

Marcus just scoffed.

Irene didn't seem fazed. She must've been used to people not believing her. She simply stood and waited for a response from Marcus.

He didn't give her one.

"A pity..." Irene eyed Marcus' knees and began to speak in an old language that Leon could barely make out. "_Your knees are the first to go. Your shins are next. Perhaps I'll rip your fingernails out next?_"

Marcus' eyes suddenly widened. "You... How do you know that language? You—"

"_I told you_," she continued. "_Rome is not Trojan. I represent the last pillar of Troy. Rome was built on the foundations of the corrupt and morally inept values held by the Trojan royal family of my generation. Only Hector, the hero of Troy, stood above the rest. Not even Aeneas could measure up to him._"

Marcus looked like he wanted to argue, but he was at a loss for words.

"I do understand the mindset, though," Irene told him, speaking in contemporary Greek again. "Your empire descends from Aeneas, the last known famous Trojan to escape Troy before it fell. They are your kin, and you seek to protect your family. Everyone wants to protect their own kind. I also know it would take a miracle to convince both sides that they are, in fact, more similar than they are different. That, whether they are Greek or Roman, they are all children of Olympus. I'm not delusional enough to believe that some sort of peace will ever be achieved. Nor do I believe you will ever relent and betray your conviction. However, should you seek to eradicate the ones you believe are your enemy, I will not sit and watch."

Leon felt the uneasiness of Xanthe beside him. Thanas looked hesitant, as if he wasn't sure what to make of what Irene was saying. Sometimes he felt like she and Percy were out of their league. She wasn't making this interrogation about them and the campers. She was telling the Roman her true feelings. Her genuine nature was something that the Trio had come to appreciate, especially when Percy was always so cryptic with them — though that had changed in recent months. But it made them confused. How were they supposed to respond?

The Roman hesitated for a moment, but then decided against speaking out. He shook his head and scowled, staying silent.

"We are more similar than you think, Marcus," Irene continued.

She walked around to his rear and drew a dagger. She cut through his bonds and tossed her knife to his feet.

Leon took a step forward, ready to summon Koptos, but Irene held up her hand. He stopped in his tracks, staring at her incredulously. What was she thinking?

Marcus glanced over his shoulder and let out a bark of laughter. "You're going to let me free, knowing I will come back to destroy you?"

"I give you the choice," Irene replied. "Peace or war. You are a descendant of Mars. Choose wisely."

The Roman turned to the Trio, eyeing them with cold hatred. Staring into the Roman's eyes, Leon could see something he hadn't noticed before. It wasn't that Marcus wanted to teach the Greeks a lesson. It was the same look his aunt had given him after she realized who he truly was. Marcus didn't just hate Greeks because of his loyalty to Rome and the fallen Troy. He hated Greeks because he'd been raised to believe, and had intentionally sought to believe, that Greeks were less than human. That Greeks were less than Romans because they were savages. It wasn't a fight for survival. It was a fight to expunge what he thought was filth from the world.

But he didn't attack them. He scooped up the dagger and limped out of the room.

"No one will say anything to Percy about the reason why I let him free," Irene said firmly.

Xanthe turned to face her, barely holding in her anger. "Why _did_ you let him free?"

"Because I'm cruel, vicious and self-serving," Irene replied. Her eyes flashed dangerously, just like they had on the night Troy burned to the ground. "So long as there is an imbalance between the Greeks and the Romans, Percy will never come to his senses. And there is no better way for us to lure the Romans into a trap than to spare the leaders who wish to see Greeks slaughtered wholescale rather than those who only wish subjugation."

"He's a monster that sees killing Greeks as sport!" Xanthe yelled.

"Exactly. He is the model Roman for our plan."

"But he'll end up killing more of us because he's not an idiot!"

Irene gave her a sympathetic look. "I understand the confusion and pain you must be going through. But you cannot allow your personal vendetta to come before the bigger picture."

"Why does Percy have to be the bigger picture? What does it matter if he's saved or not? Florian..." Xanthe's voice broke. "Florian is..."

Leon put an arm around her before she could scream and turn into a storm. She shook in rage and hurt, but she managed to hold it in, crossing one arm across her chest and resting her hand on his.

Irene sighed softly and turned to Thanas. "How go the preparations?"

Thanas pressed his lips together in a tight line. His forehead was creased with wrinkles; the stress must have been getting to him. "Not good. When we were on our way past Leon's village, several outposts we'd set up were found abandoned. The Romans don't have much of a presence down here, but they're persistent and annoying enough that we can hardly press forward. Combine that with Emperor Justinian's detached attitude toward Alex and Viviana, and things don't look bright. There are just too many Romans distracting us."

She nodded slowly. "Much of the blame falls on me for burdening you with two tasks at once."

"It's fine, I—"

"No. Do not pretend that it is fine." She turned to Leon. "Do you have the vials? It is time. The final stage has begun."

"Vials?" Thanas stared at Leon. "Of what?"

Leon glanced at Xanthe, who still looked emotionally drained. She produced the vials from her pouch, but handed them over to him, expecting him to explain the situation to Thanas. He didn't know why Irene had wanted them to keep it a secret from Thanas for so long, but seeing the way Thanas looked after a few months separated made it a little clearer. The war effort wasn't going well, and Thanas had to bear the brunt of it all. Leon and Xanthe were, to put it simply, just soldiers.

Leon explained it to him as best as he could. He told him about the day they went back to the camp to seek out the body of Xanthe's mother and how they'd run into the goddess Hecate there and the crossroads that she had shown them.

Thanas shook his head in disbelief. "But how could we—?"

The door swung open, and Percy stepped inside.

His eyes immediately went to the empty chair where Marcus had been sitting and then to Irene, who was watching him carefully. Percy seemed to consider his options for a moment before he shrugged.

"At least we'll have a reason to kill him for good when he returns," he said, as if he knew exactly what was going to happen. He frowned. "Though, I'd prefer it if you didn't do these things behind my back, Irene."

"You don't seem too angry," she noted.

Percy's expression changed. A look of relief appeared on his face and he smiled at Leon. "That's because I have good news. Your mother is awake and alert. She's a little shocked at the whole situation, but she's taken it well for someone who has wholeheartedly believed in Christ her whole life. And... she wants to see you, Leon."

Leon's ears perked up. He straightened his posture and took a step forward. "Then... lead the way."

* * *

Zoë woke up in a cold sweat. Another nightmare.

She didn't move, staring up from underneath her covers. She saw nothing but the dark canvas ceiling and the soft glow of the lamp's light to her left. It was raining outside, the soft pitter-patter around her tent filling her ears as if they were buckets.

If her eyes were working properly, it was still nighttime. Helene would be on watch.

Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and turned to face the lamp. It burned as brightly as it had when she'd fallen asleep. That was the power of Greek fire. But to her right was her own shadow, illuminated on the canvas, staring right back at her. A cold shiver ran up her spine as the memory of her nightmare returned.

Zoë raised a clawed hand above her chest and pushed away to ward off the evil spirits lurking about.

Getting to her feet, she rummaged through her belongings and gathered an extra set of clothing. She would take a quick plunge into the nearby creek and dry off. The rain sounded light anyway.

As expected, the sun had yet to rise. She shut off her lamp, bringing it with her, and snuck away from the campsite. She noticed Helene hidden in the shadows, silently watching the dim campfire burn as another uneventful night passed.

Zoë found the creek, lit the lamp, and stripped down.

As she slipped into the icy water, the nightmare started to reform once again in her mind.

She saw Orion with Irene, hunting down what looked to be stray Hunters. In her nightmare, it almost seemed like they were allies. She knew that couldn't be true. How could Irene ever cooperate with someone who represented the very man she loathed? The only way would be if Percy made her do it. But Irene didn't look like she cared much about shooting down the Hunters.

She'd used her charmspeak effortlessly, commanding the Hunters to make mistakes so that Orion had the perfect opportunity to shoot them down. Normally, the daughter of Aphrodite held back on those powers because she knew it could easily backfire on her. Using magic over and over again was tiring, and keeping people under her influence was even more so.

But, of all things, Percy was nowhere to be found.

Was she watching a future where Percy was killed? Would that turn Irene into the same kind of cold-blooded killer that Percy was?

Perhaps it was the Fates' way of balancing things out. In the end, Nemesis would reign supreme because too much of one thing would ultimately overpower all else.

Still, she couldn't get over seeing Orion. The last time she saw the giant was back during Nero's reign, when girls were starting to be kidnapped en masse from Rome. The giant knew that it would get Artemis' attention. The only task that had remained was drawing out the Hunters too far. And Orion was almost successful at doing so had it not been for Nero's fire.

Zoë stepped out of the creek and dried herself off, hiding under a tree to shield herself from the rain. Too many people had died because of the fire. Not because of the fire itself, but because of the persecution of Christians afterward.

It was debatable whether the fire was truly the cause of the persecutions, or if it was just an excuse for Nero to do Nero things, but she remembered the lines of arrested Romans being marched away for execution.

Zoë stared at her hands. She hadn't behaved much better than Percy over the years. How many young men had been killed for accidentally trespassing on Hunter encampments? Some of them were truly innocent, not knowing where they were, starving and looking for any human activity. Yet still she cut them down because that was her duty as the lieutenant.

Over the past three years, the Hunters had found dozens of informants all across the known world that were helping out Percy. She had also killed them all.

It was to stop Percy, though. It was to stop his rampage. He was more destructive than she could ever be because he involved himself in the mortal world, in politics and wars.

Despite the legitimate claim, she couldn't bring herself to raise a finger against Percy himself.

Sullenly, she walked back to the camp, once again shutting off her lamp.

As she approached, she saw Helene speaking to someone just at the edge of camp, both arguing in hushed voices.

"Phoebe, you can't do this yet!" Helene argued.

"We have to do something," Phoebe shot back. "If we don't, it'll never end. We'll continue this game of back and forth for eternity. Fill that power vacuum with people who won't immediately turn to greed and power and a lust for revenge."

"But you're essentially saying you want a huge number of Greeks to die!" Helene looked flabbergasted. "You want us to help hundreds of them to die so that we can make him go unhinged?"

"If we draw him out, we can encircle him and strike him from behind before he has a chance to escape."

"But Irene's plan is working! He hasn't done anything of any significance for the past couple of years!"

"He might be well-behaved now, but there's no guarantee that it will last forever. There's always a chance that he snaps and goes on a rampage. This is the closest either side has ever come to eradicating the other."

"I know! I know! Something none of us realized until recently is that he's managed to help whittle down both sides to not much more than a thousand in total when it used to be tens of thousands pitted against each other. But that doesn't excuse that insane idea!"

"If the gods won't strike him down, we have to." Phoebe sounded angry, but it didn't seem like it was entirely directed at Percy. Perhaps the couple years that he'd been staying around Constantinople had reassured her that he wasn't a complete lunatic. "The only things keeping him sane right now are the safety of the Greeks, and safety of the Trio, Irene and Zoë. If those people disappear, he won't stay down. If the gods wanted so desperately to get rid of him, they should have killed him, not exiled him!"

"So you want to control how he becomes unhinged?"

"That way we can control how to take him down."

Helene looked conflicted. "But, of all the Hunters other than Zoë, we should be the ones that understand Percy the best. Don't you remember the years before he was exiled? There was a time when we thought he would be someone akin to the next Hippolytus. If Irene can bring that back—"

"The gods broke him," Phoebe snapped. "The gods broke him, and it would take a miracle to fix him. We can't keep what has been broken no matter how much we want to."

Helene didn't say anything. She seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Are you with me or not?"

Helene stared at her feet. She was silent for a while, pondering and reflecting on everything that had happened so far. It wasn't like she had much of a choice.

"I'm with you."

Zoë pressed her lips together and turned around. She backtracked out of earshot and approached the campsite once again. This time, she didn't hide the fact that she was approaching, intentionally making enough noise that the two would notice her presence.

As two of them entered her line of sight, she saw two pairs of eyes staring straight at her, bows at the ready. They dropped their bows as they recognized her and stared in surprise. Zoë feigned surprise of her own, like she thought only Helene was supposed to be awake and alert.

"I thought Aikaterine was supposed to take over Helene's shift," Zoë said, directing her comment to Phoebe. She noticed Phoebe's guarded expression. The Hunter was still keeping secrets. "Are you replacing her?"

"How did you—?"

Helene was cut off by Phoebe.

"No, but I couldn't sleep." Phoebe glanced at Helene, as if warning her not to say anything about what they were just talking about. "I wanted to discuss matters with Helene. About our hunt for Percy's spy network. About how to proceed."

"Is this something you would have brought to my attention?" Zoë asked.

"Only if I received enough support," Phoebe replied. "And only if others thought my idea was worth bringing up."

Zoë nodded, trying her best to act dismissive. She wasn't a good actor, and she knew it, but she had to try her best for Phoebe's sake. She knew Phoebe didn't hate the side of Percy that had vanished after his exile. She knew Phoebe could remember the old days. Yet, in the end, that was probably what hurt so much. Because it was someone they knew and they used to care about that had devolved into someone so vicious.

In truth, it was none of their business. They had no right to have a say in matters like this that didn't involve them. This was a fight between Greeks and Romans. The pitiful, wasteful deaths that came along with it shouldn't have been of any concern to them as companions of Artemis.

It was because it was Percy.

It was always because of Percy.

Zoë glanced toward the camp. "We should start getting ready as the sun rises. We have a long journey to begin."

Phoebe and Helene gave her a confused look.

_Three years_, Irene had said. _That's when he'll launch his plan. But I can't let him have it his way. Summer solstice in three years. Come to me. The end will begin._

"We're headed to Constantinople."

* * *

"Leon!"

His mother looked like she'd been staring out the window. But as soon as he entered the room, she whirled around and ran up to him.

"Mother..."

He didn't know what to say first. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell her that he really missed her. He wanted to tell her that he wished he had never left.

"Come." She beckoned him over and sat down on her bed. "Sit."

He sat down.

"Percy took care of me," she told him with a small smile. "He's kind."

Three years ago, he wouldn't have believed those words, but Percy _had_ been a lot less cold in recent months.

"He also told me a little bit about... the war."

Leon pressed his lips together in a tight line.

"This war you speak of..." His mother hesitated, as if unsure whether to believe this was all real or not. "Why are you children fighting it? What about the adults?"

"Everyone is fighting," Leon replied. "Right down to the young ones."

"That's... cruel." She looked down at her hands. "Those barbaric men who stormed our home were the scariest soldiers I've ever seen in my life. The leader, that Marcus, even ordered his men to kill the young. They wanted to spare no one."

Leon looked away guiltily. "I'm sorry. If... if I hadn't been so careless, you never would have been targeted. Aunt Martina was right about that."

His mother patted his hands. "Don't be sorry, Leon. I know... I know you might not believe the story, but you know that Jesus faced opposition from the Romans. He, as a man born from Jewish roots, was disliked by those who followed the old Roman pantheon. To Christians, he willingly sacrificed himself for the sins of others. The ones who rise above others will always face opposition."

"I'm not a hero, Mother. I've killed people. I'm a murderer."

"We are all selfish," she insisted. "We all commit sins each and every single day. But we wash away our sins. Repent for the wrongs we've committed. And try to live each day better than the last. Some live clean and happy lives. Some willingly dirty their hands so that others can enjoy freedom. There isn't always a happy in-between. I understand that."

"Then how am I any better than what Aunt Martina calls a demon?"

His mother pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue. But she didn't open her mouth. She didn't have an argument. By her standards, he was the equivalent of scum. He was supposed to have no merit or worth in her eyes.

"Leon, did I ever tell you about your grandfather?"

He stared at her. "No. I've never heard you mention anything about my grandfather."

She glanced at Xanthe and Thanas, who were sitting quietly on the other bed. "He wasn't like me. Or Martina. Or Kyros. He came from Thessalonica. He was a young aspiring scholar when he lost everything to the Romans. He was forced to move out and ended up in our village. There, he met my mother... your grandmother. They fell in love and married and eventually had me. It wasn't until I was seven that I realized that, although my mother was Christian like her family, my father was not."

Leon straightened his posture. He'd never heard any stories about his grandparents before. As far as he knew, they both died before he was born.

"I couldn't understand, at first, why he was a non-believer. My mother eventually told me that it was supposed to be a secret. But that... that wasn't until after he died."

His mother paused for a moment, as if her emotions were about to overwhelm her. His mother must have been close to his grandfather. But how could that be when she wholeheartedly believed one way, and he believed another? No one else in the village was as forgiving.

"Martina and Kyros were young and impressionable. They didn't think much of your grandfather growing up, since much of his time was preoccupied with studying. They didn't find it interesting or intriguing. The more time they spent with the more radical families in the village, the more and more they began to believe that he was unfaithful and worthy of punishment. When I was thirteen, my two siblings eventually gathered enough evidence to reveal to the village of his true beliefs. As you know, much of the village vehemently opposes non-believers. At first, the moderate families tried to settle for exile. But, somehow, the village called for the death penalty. Watching... watching my father die in front of my eyes was the worst day of my life. He was stoned. They first aimed for his legs. When they fell, they then aimed for his torso. And then, when he had crumpled to the ground, halfway dead, they threw rocks at his head."

Leon's chest tightened in sorrow. The memory of Sophia being cut down by javelins popped back to the forefront of his mind.

"Until you fled that day from the Romans, that was the worst day of my life. Your grandmother passed away a few years after your grandfather from illness. Martina and Kyros always believed our father came from Hell to take her life. I... I may not have agreed with my father's beliefs, but that didn't mean he deserved death."

Leon found Thanas' eyes. They had executed quite a few Romans over the years. But they had never resorted to stoning.

Lethal poison. Blade to the heart. Blade to the throat.

All of those had been fair game. Something in Thanas' eyes told him that stoning could be even more barbaric, depending on where the rocks were thrown.

"I had some time to think," his mother continued. "About what you said. About how you killed Kyros."

He turned back to her with a solemn look.

"I... I must admit that you have committed a wrong. But I also believe that you would have never knowingly and willingly committed that crime. What you did was accidental when you discovered the unnatural power that resides within you. I believe that..."

He looked into her eyes and saw something he hadn't noticed before. Her mind was overwhelmed. She hadn't been ready to learn about the truth, and it was beginning to show. She was holding on for his sake.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "Don't push yourself, Mother. I know this is too much for you."

She shook her head. "You... you endured years with me with your powers, with me forcing down my faith upon you when you are not compatible. I can... I can endure this much for you."

"Mother—"

"Please!" she pleaded.

He was taken aback. He hadn't seen that kind of intensity from her before.

"God has a funny way of doing things," his mother said, letting out a tired laugh. "I trust that He has a plan for you. Perhaps it was vengeance for what Kyros did to your grandfather. But, if that is true, what of Martina?"

At first, Leon wanted to dismiss her words for incoherent ramble, but as he thought about it a second time, he realized that all he needed to do was change a couple of words for it to make sense in his world.

_The Fates have a funny way of doing things_, he thought. _They must have a plan for me._

The rationale was different, of course, but that thought didn't seem so outlandish.

Leon turned his gaze to Percy and Irene, who were standing by the doorway. Both of them looked half relieved and half concerned.

"Leon... promise me one thing."

He turned back to his mother.

She took a shaky breath. "Remember the ones who love you. If you must fight this war, don't drive the ones you love to death. If it must end... don't live as a heathen. Die as a hero. Promise me."

Leon held her gaze. She was on the verge of breaking down. But, for his sake, she was holding it together. After a moment, he nodded.

"I promise."


	29. Chapter 27

**UPDATE: Hey, so I came back after a few days and realized that I was missing the last page of the chapter in the upload. My proof-reading skills are non-existent, LOL.**

* * *

**Chapter 27**

_Circa 550 CE  
Justinian Dynasty  
Constantinople_

Percy felt like he was a little kid again, swinging his legs back and forth as he stared at the dark night sky from the roof of the Greek hideout building. It had been a few days since they returned from Thessalonica. Had it not been for the war being waged around him, he would've thought it to be a peaceful night.

The city was dark. Lamps scattered here and there illuminated corners and walkways, but it had long passed the time when honest folk disappeared from the streets.

Next to him, his own lamp flickered with light. It was practically the only thing he could see, though his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, allowing him to make out shadows here and there. His other senses kept him alert, and he was able to picture what was going on around him.

There were footsteps below him. They were soft and near silent, but enough to prickle his ears. A dim shadow moved with the sound, sliding to the side of the building and climbing up to the roof.

Percy leaned back on his hands as Irene joined him.

She sat on the opposite side of the lamp and gave him a smile. "Enjoying the darkness?"

He shrugged. "I always appreciate time alone to ponder."

He'd been thinking about what Leon's mother had said earlier. He never thought of himself as evil, but he had to admit that he'd been cold and distant for centuries in order to accomplish what he had been able to do.

Seeing Leon's guilty expression every time he looked at his mother made him wonder about the life he lived. Percy wanted Apollo to suffer. He wanted revenge. He would tear down others' happiness to do it. But the reason he wanted to tear everything down in the first place was because he had no place in the world. No one wanted him. That was why he'd been tossed aside so easily. Despite living for hundreds of years and meeting countless new faces, few ever looked at him with any loving expression.

The gods didn't want to kill him either. They could have done it a long time ago. But, if they didn't kill him after what he did to the Thirtieth Legion, they wouldn't kill him for anything. It didn't matter that his continued prolonging of the war kept them split between their Greek and Roman forms. Zeus only needed a moment of clarity to strike him down.

Recently, things had started to change. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed it until three years had passed, but Irene was the one constant that had never changed.

"I enjoy clear skies better," Irene said, looking at the dark clouds above. "You don't get a good view of the stars this way."

Percy smiled. "You sure enjoy the stars, don't you? Always a stargazer, I suppose."

Irene laughed. It was a quiet laugh, but in the deafening silence of the night it sounded loud and clear. Her voice resonated with warmth. "Every clear night, especially on nights where we could see the moon, Zoë would always bring me out to stargaze. You can blame her for that."

"You went to stargaze?" he asked.

She shot him a grin. "You would always go to sleep after training me. Did Achilles have that sort of impact on you? After she returned to the palace near the end of the war, Cassandra told me that, whenever you weren't fighting or eating, you were either taking quiet walks on the beach or sleeping."

He recalled the old memories and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Pretty much. Dealing with Achilles and Agamemnon was infuriating at times. Achilles was always so impulsive and arrogant that it always seemed like all the time I spent trying to train him the art of patience went to waste. And Agamemnon... He was a good leader, looking back on it, but he was incredibly selfish and self-serving. Perhaps not so different from Achilles. But, at least with Achilles, he was under my influence. I hated not having control."

"I find it hard to believe that you had an easy time controlling arguably the greatest Greek warrior of all time."

"Not arguably." Percy shook his head and thought hard about all the heroes he'd seen over his years. "_The_ greatest Greek warrior of all time. The others all did great things, but no one fought in a war like he did except Leonidas. Heracles is undoubtedly the best Greek hero, but he wasn't a warrior. He was just... powerful."

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily call Achilles the greatest Greek warrior of all time." She leaned over and poked his shoulder. "Even though we collectively wiped your name from history, I think you would beat Achilles. You _did_ teach him. And, despite him only having one weak spot, you outlasted him in the war."

"I think you could make the argument that I'm the greatest Greek villain," he joked. "Not a single evil soul could come close to me. Tantalus tried to feed the gods his cooked son? I've fed the innards of friends and brothers to each other while they're still alive. Sisyphus tried to cheat death and stay alive forever? I've abused my ability to live forever by causing mass destruction. Minos tossed young children into a maze to watch them go insane and be devoured by a half-man, half-bull creature that happened to be a child of his wife? I've forced Roman kids to slowly kill each other, bit by bit. I've done more myself than all these idiots combined."

"First of all, you never fed the innards of Romans to their friends and brothers. That must've only happened to those who violated Mei. Second, you haven't abused your ability to live. You earned that right with the work you put in before making Zoë a Hunter. And third, you forced Romans to kill each other by pitting them against each other. You don't do any of the actual killing yourself."

"I did when it came to the Thirtieth."

"You were cornered."

"It was the perfect opportunity to kill them."

"And you took the opportunity that was presented to you. In a war, that's smart."

He looked away from her. "Weren't we talking about stargazing? How did we get to the topic of war?"

"Probably because our lives practically revolve around it." Her voice was laced with a hint of sadness. "I wish it wasn't this way."

They sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the night.

Then, Percy broke it, saying, "So if you got your stargazing habit from Zoë, what did you pick up from me?"

Irene pursed her lips in thought. "Hmm... That's a good question. I guess... it would be sarcasm."

He stared at her again. "You are definitely _not_ sarcastic. Did you hit your head or something? Head injuries can be really scary, you know, if you aren't treated correctly."

She laughed again. "I was joking. I know I'm not good at sarcasm. I just figured I'd say something because nothing was really coming to my head. With you, I have no idea what I adopted from you. Because all I ever wanted was to fight by your side."

Percy looked into her eyes. For a moment, her expression was wistful, longing for old times before his exile, before their lives went to shit. But it was gone quickly, replaced with flickering amusement.

"Perhaps it was the earnestness," she suggested, calming and subduing herself. "Just trying to be a genuine person."

"As opposed to a fake person."

"Yeah. Though I'm not exactly sure what a fake person would be."

"Aphrodite."

The two met eyes and burst into laughter.

"Sorry... mom..." she gasped between breaths. "He's right... though..."

After a moment, they settled back down into silence. There was a break in the clouds, and the full moon shone through.

"So I was earnest, eh?" Percy mused.

"You still are."

He didn't respond. He wasn't sure how to react.

"Although you're misguided now, you're still sincere and genuine. You might hide your pain from others, but anyone who sees you knows exactly what you stand for. Whether they agree with your conviction or not is another story. Still, you trying to fight for what you think is right is very... you. That has never changed."

Percy pressed his lips together tightly. "I don't know if what I'm currently fighting for is _right_. I think it's fair, in a sense."

"What you believe is right isn't necessarily to the benefit of everyone else as a whole," she pointed out. "Remember those years you said you spent helping Zoë become a Hunter? You went through all the hassle... just for her. You didn't care about what happened to your future. You fought those monsters for her sake. Because helping her become a Hunter was what you thought was right. Just like how you gave your time, helping me heal and training me to be a fighter. Because that was what you felt was right."

"With that logic, even murderers and lunatics can be earnest."

"Yeah. I think they can. No one ever said being earnest was only a good thing."

He smiled to himself. "Guess I'm not on that 'good' side of earnestness."

"Maybe not. But I understand why you're so angry at Apollo and at the gods. I would be too. I just think that killing innocent people along the way isn't the path I'd choose."

Percy sighed. "I know. I've heard it a million times."

He fully expected Irene to continue the conversation, but she pressed her lips together and looked away. She swung her legs. "It's nice, though. The darkness might be eerie to some, but I like it. Of course, I prefer daytime, but night is also cool."

"Night is underrated," he joked. "I bet Nyx would love to hear that."

"We're day creatures, I guess." Irene smirked. "Well... most of us."

"If you could spend a significant period of time underwater, you would see that the whole notion of night and day is trivial," he grinned. "Actually, you wouldn't see at all, considering the sunlight doesn't reach that far underwater."

"I like changing weather, thank you very much. Plus, how would I ever get to see the stars from underwater?"

"You wouldn't. That's the point."

"Right. I forgot that you just spend all your time fighting and sleeping."

"Sure. That's what I spend all my time doing."

Irene smiled. "Do you remember the time you tripped and fell off that cliff?"

He shuddered. "Don't remind me." He held his hands about shoulder-width apart. "I was this close to hitting my head on the rocks below and killing myself. If I wasn't a son of Poseidon, that would've been the end of me."

"And for what? To show Zoë and I the view?"

"There was a snake!"

"A snake scared you."

"Yes, a snake scared me! You got a problem with that?"

"Nothing ever scares you anymore."

"Tons of things still scare me. I'm afraid of crowded places, of being high up in the sky, of jump scares. Snakes, too. I still hate those things. I can't understand why Hermes keeps them company. I'm fortunate and have never been bitten by a super poisonous one, but their teeth sinking into my skin hurts like hell. It's like being stabbed. But worse."

"How is a snake bite worse than being stabbed?" she exclaimed. "One consists of sharp teeth barely longer than a fingernail, at least for the smaller ones, and the other consists of a metal blade the length of your forearm."

"Snakes just scare me. A human with a knife doesn't."

"You're so weird."

Percy puffed his chest out. "So what?"

Irene just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"If I could stop being afraid of snakes, I _would_," he argued. "But hey, I'm not immortal, so if a poisonous one bites me, I'm fucking dead."

"And the world would be a better place." Irene gave him a sideways smile. "Free from a devilish monster!"

"Ha ha, very funny," he said dryly.

"I do think it's quite funny."

"Who has a twisted sense of humor now?"

"I said you're weird, not that you have a twisted sense of humor."

"Same thing."

"It's obviously _not_ the same thing!"

"Close enough."

She punched his shoulder lightly. "Such a weirdo."

Percy smiled. It had been a long time since he'd had a moment of peace. He'd forgotten how pleasant they were.

In the distance, he heard the sound of a galloping horse, and the desperate call from its rider. The stallion was racing down the street, coming around the bend and toward the demigod neighbourhood. The rider was holding his torch high and waved it frantically, as if to pass on an urgent message.

Irene's breath hitched. He turned to her, and she gave him a look of dread.

"The king's guards are coming!" he heard the rider shout. "Wake! We have to go!"

Percy was up to his feet in an instant. This wasn't his plan. It was still a couple months out before the deadline. It must have been Marcus. Irene had come to the same conclusion.

"Wake everyone up and help them escape," Percy told her. "Send everyone back to Hellas. Have Alexandros and Viviana lead them. You, me and the Trio need to head down to Tyre, through Syria."

"Into enemy territory?" she questioned.

"Three years is up," he reminded her. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Though this isn't exactly how I'd envisioned it."

"Five of us? In enemy territory? I don't like the sound of that."

"It's the only way we'll defeat them. Trust me."

Irene hesitated. For a second, he thought she was acting again, like they were doing one of their feints, but her expression tightened and she nodded. "I'll get everyone to safety. Meet up across the strait?"

He nodded in affirmation. "Where we spoke that day."

Irene slipped off the roof and burst off toward the barracks. Percy glanced in the direction of the castle. If the messenger was telling the truth, it wouldn't be long before the king's guards were within sight.

He killed the light and began to navigate across the rooftops toward the main street, where he figured the king's men would charge from. He readied Anaklusmos for battle as he came toward the main intersection. Slipping down to ground-level, he turned toward the wooden structure and immediately tried to set it alight. After several unsuccessful attempts, he finally got it to work just as he heard the rumble of cavalry advancing on his position.

He summoned a tripwire arrow and fired it across the intersection with his bow. He tied it to the column of the now ignited building. He hoped it would hold steady until the king's troops arrived. He did the same thing across the other street. The first soldiers to arrive would be met with a wire to the face.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear the Greek demigods evacuating, stirred from their sleep by the sudden alarm. Ahead of him, the king's men were almost on his position. He just needed to distract them with more fires.

He crossed the street toward the other houses. He brought a burning stick of wood and tossed it into the front of the home.

"Fire!" he shouted, hoping to stir the residents from their slumber, before climbing up to the roof of an unaffected building. "Fire!"

It hadn't rained in weeks, which made the houses the perfect fuel for the fire. The flames spread quickly, looking for something new to devour. He heard panicked shouting from inside the homes, just as the king's men came within sight.

Residents started to evacuate the properties. Women and children gathered in the street while men tried to put out the fire.

The king's men came to a stop as they reached the intersection.

"My God," the lead guard muttered. He turned to his men. "Half of you, help with the fire. The rest, on me!"

"Yes, sir!" a couple guards said.

Percy summoned his bow and fired a few flaming arrows at the neighbouring buildings.

They joined the growing inferno as the wooden structures began to fall apart. As the king's men discovered the trip wires, the plume of smoke rising into the sky grew larger and thicker. The first building he'd ignited collapsed as the wood burned away.

The residents screamed as a cloud of dust rose from the wreckage. If there was still anyone inside, they were as good as dead.

Percy looked down at the wreckage. Alarm bells were sounding off all across the neighbourhood. The king's men looked trapped. A few had gone on to chase down the fleeing Greek demigods, but the majority were stuck trying to figure out how to deal with the growing fire.

_Good enough_, Percy thought.

He silently slipped away and went off to the rendezvous point.

* * *

Xanthe was stunned and angry at the events that had just conspired. She knew the end was coming, given all of Irene's hints and actions, but she hadn't expected it to come so soon. After escaping to the other side of the strait in Constantinople, Percy and Irene brought the three of them to Nicaea to regain their bearings.

Except it didn't seem like Irene had been expecting the sudden attack. Several Greek demigods had died trying to help the younger ones evacuate. Xanthe wanted to stay and fight, but Irene was adamant that they needed to leave.

Percy stared at the map in front of him as he tried to concoct some sort of plan. Or, at least, revise the plan he'd been keeping in reserve. The way he was focusing on certain areas of the map made her think that he'd already had a contingency plan in place. This sudden event must've changed some of the variables in play, though.

Thanas swiped his hand through the Mist, ending a chat with Alex and Viviana. He nodded grimly. "They made it safely to Lemnos."

Percy glanced up for a moment and smirked. "Better watch out for the women."

Xanthe recalled Thanas' telling the story of Percy's journey with the Argonauts. Lemnos was one of the stops on the journey. In the past, it had been solely occupied with women. Now, the mythical Lemnos existed as a separate island somewhere out in the Sea of Monsters, distinct from its mortal world counterpart.

"They will need to sail to Skyros and then to Chalcis for the best possible chance at avoiding Roman eyes," Irene said. She glanced at Percy. "Is the camp at Gortyn set up?"

"Last I heard, Chiron founded both sites," Percy said, looking back at the map. "One near Dystos and the other just outside of Gortyn. I'd say all the young ones should probably flee to Crete. The Romans may move quickly, but the cost of scouring Crete for the few they'll find is too great."

Irene gave him a quizzical look.

He glanced up and shrugged. "Hey, when they cornered me on Crete, they knew they were hunting someone of extreme value."

Irene shook her head and took a seat next to him, and they began to discuss a plan of action.

Leon was quieter than usual as he stared blankly in front of him. Fortunately for him, both Irene and Percy had decided to send his mother away from Thessalonica and Constantinople. She was in Athens now, safe from the fighting. For now. Still, it hadn't been that long since they'd left her. He must've been worried.

Thanas looked stressed. He paced back and forth, muttering to himself about the evacuation, cursing himself for not doing a better job.

Right when it seemed like they were due for some peace, this sudden evacuation just had to happen. Xanthe couldn't help but resent the Emperor. After everything Theodora went through to protect them, he had to throw it away.

But she didn't envy his position. Regardless of what decision he made, he would be criticized. Being the Emperor, even with all its perks, must have been a difficult job. She wondered what tipped him over to the other side. Was it the Romans?

Thinking about the Romans only made her heart ache. The bastard, Marcus, gave her hope that Florian was still alive. She knew that they would likely meet as enemies on the battlefield, but that didn't mean she was afraid to find him. She'd tried her best to live and ignore her own sins and to live a happy life with Leon. But the guilt was still there, hidden under layers of masks, for being a murderer.

"Do you really think they're behind this?" Percy was asking Irene.

She nodded. "It has to be. The Romans are still down in Syria. The Romans in the Emperor's council weren't influential enough to start this. And your people weren't the ones who did it either. That leaves the Hunters. You know how Phoebe feels about you."

Percy cursed. "It won't be all of them, will it?"

"I doubt it," Irene said, shaking her head. "Unless Zoë had a sudden change of heart, she wouldn't hunt you down like this. Based on my last conversation with her, she hasn't changed. And that wasn't all that long ago."

"If the Hunters were already in Constantinople, we don't have much time before they find us," he pointed out. "They're Artemis' companions for a reason."

"Do we stand and fight?"

"We would fight back if we had the tactical and strategic advantage. But neither of us know where they are at the moment. They could be right on our heels and ready to strike at a moment's notice. We're not prepared. Even half of the Hunters would be able to defeat us in an ambush. Deflecting arrows with swords and spears is impractical. You'll be hit nine times out of ten. And against the Hunters? Make that ninety-nine out of one hundred."

"Look at you. The demigod who can destroy an entire legion is scared of half a dozen Hunters."

Percy stared at her. "I'm not worried about myself."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two stared at each other. Both of them cast sidelong glances at her, Leon and Thanas.

"You're the only target, Percy," Irene reminded him.

He pressed his lips together in a tight line. "It doesn't matter. We should advance. To Tarsus. Forget the Hunters. It's now or never. We need to strike the Romans."

"And you're going to leave the Twelfth to Baduila?"

"For now."

Suddenly, Thanas snapped to attention and stared at the window. It was the only source of fresh air and natural light in the room with both the front and back doors closed. His eyes slowly widened, as if a chill was crawling up his spine.

"My hands!" he shouted, extending them forward.

Instinctively, Leon reached out to grab him. Xanthe found herself reaching out for Leon. On Thanas' other side, both Percy and Irene grabbed a hold of his other arm.

Just before they slipped into the tiny shadow of the table on the floor, the room exploded with a flash of blinding green light. Greek fire.

The sheer force of the explosion sent her flying through the darkness, and the only thing she could feel was Leon's hand holding hers. They were in a tunnel of shadows, the wind racing past them.

"_Urgh_!"

As if dropped from the bough of a tree, she landed face-first and got a mouthful of dirt. She groaned in pain, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She blinked and looked around to gather her bearings.

Leon was next to her, looking just as disoriented.

But Thanas, Percy and Irene were nowhere to be found.

She slowly got to her feet, brushing the dirt off her clothes.

They were underneath a lonely tree standing at the side of a road. South of them was a small river, large enough for agricultural viability but small enough that a military fleet wouldn't be able to sail through. To the east, buildings poked over the terrain, spread out in an urban sprawl. Judging by the air around her, she could tell they were somewhere inland. She couldn't sense the sea breeze that was present in cities near the coast.

"Ankyra," Leon muttered, walking to her side. "I think we slipped out of Thanas' grasp when the explosion rocked the room. We must've slipped out of the shadow tunnel before they did."

Ankyra was at the far edge of their new territory. The last reports that had come from the garrison were of advance Roman scouts harassing their position. She cursed. This was a bad place to be caught in. But it made sense. Percy had wanted to go to Tarsus. From Nicaea, Ankyra was somewhere in between. If they flew out of the shadow tunnel, this was a possible destination.

_Screech!_

High above them, several eagles soared past. They were, unnaturally, together. Typically eagles were lone hunters, or at least in small packs, and seldom did she ever see them glitter in the sunlight as they were. As the majority of the eagles continued forward, two pulled away from the group and immediately began to dive.

"Oh shit!" Leon exclaimed. He summoned Koptos and pointed at the two eagles. "Romans."

He blasted the two golden eagles out of the sky like they were nothing. One eagle died instantly. She could see the body and the wings go limp. The other shook erratically as its body tried but failed to regain control of itself. Both slammed into the ground with hideous thuds.

"We have to get to the river," Leon told her. "Get an Iris message to Thanas."

She nodded and grabbed her spear. "We're going to have company, though."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but if we can get to the river before they find us..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small group of soldiers running along the riverside. The unmistakable shape of their shields gave their identities away.

"We're too late," she said, pointing at the soldiers headed their way.

Leon cursed. He glanced toward the city. "What about the garrison? They'll have a spring or a fountain or something."

Xanthe eyed the soldiers. There were around a dozen of them. "This is our best chance to fight them. If we retreat, they'll trap us."

"Getting back to Thanas, Percy and Irene is our priority," he argued. "If we get caught up in a battle, we could end up getting killed."

"We've faced a bunch of Romans in battle before!"

"Under different circumstances." They began to retreat down the road. "We were literally just flung from the fucking shadow realm after the room we were in exploded with Greek fire. This isn't exactly an ideal place to be."

He was right. Xanthe's thoughts were swirling like a whirlpool. She had questions about why the room exploded in the first place, and about how Thanas was able to sense something was wrong. She was glad everyone had the gut instinct to reach out for him. Otherwise another attack would've killed them.

"To the city?" Leon suggested, though it sounded more like a command.

She nodded reluctantly and followed him down into Ankyra.

They approached the garrison building, which looked relatively quiet. They lost their Roman tails by taking a detour, winding around the far side of the city before turning back toward the headquarters. Leon cracked the door open and led with Koptos.

Stepping inside the building, it was eerily quiet. As Leon continued farther into the compound, Xanthe noticed scratch marks on the walls. She ran her fingers across the scarred wood. The marks felt like they'd been made with blades. A fight had gone down, but she couldn't tell if it was recent or old. There was no blood, fresh or dried, which temporarily soothed her nerves.

"Xanthe!" Leon's shout echoed. "Come here!"

She tightened her grip on her spear and ran toward his voice.

Down in the common area were four downed Greek soldiers. One of them was moving, but the other three were as still as wooden planks.

"We need nectar and ambrosia," Leon said urgently as he leaned on the moving Greek's wound. He pointed to a side room off to their left. "Damianos said there's some in the food storage."

Xanthe glanced at the squirming young man, who looked like his abdomen had been sliced open. She recognized him from one of their earlier operations in Nicaea. He was a scout, a son of Hermes, who'd helped them hold the town from an attacking Roman force. There was a growing pool of blood on his wounded side. His skin was pale already, and she feared they were already too late.

She dropped her spear and sprinted to the storage room. The nectar and ambrosia was front and center in the cabinet, like it was meant to be. She grabbed a container of ambrosia cubes and a jar of nectar.

Running back as fast as she could, she dropped to her knees beside Damianos and opened the jar.

Damianos shook his head weakly. "No," he managed to say. "Not for me."

"But—"

"For the survivors," the son of Hermes croaked. "A few escaped. Headed back to Constantinople."

Xanthe and Leon looked at each other.

"The Romans..." Damianos continued. "They wanted to make a show of force. I knew we would be outmatched, so I reinforced Dorylaion. They won't... pass that city."

Xanthe pressed her lips together. "Constantinople... our stronghold... is gone."

Damianos blinked in disbelief. "What... do you mean? The Romans haven't left Tarsus. I—I swear!"

"We don't know what happened either," Xanthe said. She grabbed the jar of nectar again. "Let's get you fixed up and send you to the rendezvous. We can talk about this later."

"Ankyra is far from the sea," Leon told her. "It'll be nearly impossible to send him to Dystos or Gortyn."

"We can't just leave him here to die!"

"Xanthe, we don't even know who's out there. The Romans are going to find out where we are any minute. Even if we transported him to Nicaea and then out to sea, the Romans could have been behind what happened in Constantinople."

"With Greek fire?" Xanthe shook her head adamantly. "Leon, the Romans wouldn't attack us with Greek fire. They consider themselves honorable. They'll use their own equipment and their own tactics to strike us down. The ones who triggered whatever happened in Constantinople are different."

"Who else could track us down within a day from Constantinople to Nicaea?"

"Don't you realize that there's something fishy? Why us? Why not the bigger, more susceptible group that escaped to Lemnos?"

Leon frowned. She knew she got him.

The air suddenly shimmered next to them.

An image appeared of a young man leaning on the bulwark of a boat cutting through the sea. Behind him were several others, either helping row or organizing everyone so that the evacuation ran as smoothly as possible.

Alexandros' eyes widened as the image became clearer.

"Good to see you, Alex," Damianos said painfully.

"What in Zeus' name happened?" Alexandros' eyes flickered toward her and Leon. "What are you two doing in Ankyra? I thought you were in Nicaea with Thanas, Percy and Irene!"

"Long story," Xanthe said. She looked at Damianos. "Romans attacked Ankyra."

"So that's why the garrison at Dorylaion said they're waiting for reinforcements," Alexandros muttered. His eyes were full of grief and concern. "How many are dead?"

"Soon to be six," Damianos reported. His voice was getting shallower. "Ankyra has fallen. But that doesn't matter if Constantinople has fallen."

Alexandros nodded grimly. "I suppose my evacuation order is no longer applicable here."

"Tell me we're the last ones," Damianos said. "Don't tell me I sent troops to Attaleia last week for nothing."

"Ankyra was the last one," Alexandros confirmed.

Damianos let out a soft chuckle and rested his head back. "Good," he whispered. "Good."

There was a brief moment of silence as the three of them watched him die.

Xanthe's heart grew heavy, and she set the jar of nectar down softly. Leon let go of the man's wound and lightly fell back so that he was sitting on his knees. He hung his head in a brief moment of silence.

"Fucking hell," Alexandros muttered. "Another one gone."

Xanthe heard a shout in the distance. Too lost in her grief, she thought it had come from the Iris message. The way Leon didn't react either only reaffirmed her instinct.

Alexandros looked at the other two. "While I have you here, I might as well tell you. I was going to report to Percy, but I asked every single garrison we have about the status of Romans in their region. None of them reported any significant threat. We've known there are Romans in counsel of the Emperor, but their presence was weak. Based on all the reports, it's unlikely that the Romans were behind what happened unless they were smart enough to hide from us. Doubtful, considering how Percy and Irene essentially rid Thrace and Hellas from Romans. I don't know what's going on, but Percy and Irene might have insights."

Xanthe and Leon shared another look. Her suspicions were confirmed.

"Wait!" Leon shouted, before Alexandros could end the call. "Actually, we didn't travel to Ankyra together. Or on purpose. We were escaping an attack, likely supported by whoever was behind the Constantinople incident. We're not with Thanas, Percy or Irene right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Send them an Iris message. Tell them where we are! Tell them to get ready for an Iris message to signal transport."

There was another shout, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Xanthe looked up toward the entrance. It was like her mind was playing tricks on her. It was the same shout, but this time it hadn't come from the Iris message.

"Don't worry, I'll send the Iris message," Alexandros promised.

"If they don't receive an Iris message within the next little while, we need an emergency extraction," Leon continued.

Right then, two Roman soldiers burst around the corner, swords drawn and ready for combat.

"Leon!"

He snapped to attention.

Xanthe ran toward her spear and scooped it up just as one of the Romans threw his javelin toward her. She dove out of the way. On the other side of the room, Leon was scrambling to grab Koptos. He sent a blast of lightning at the Roman chasing him.

"Cut the connection!" Leon shouted at Alexandros. "Cut it now!"

More Romans ran into the room as the Iris message dissipated.

"Don't separate!" Leon yelled at her.

Xanthe shook her head. "Vivian!"

Leon hesitated for a moment before nodding in understanding. Vivan's plan to escape a fight typically involved causing as much chaos and havoc as possible. Unlike Alex's, which was usually to fortify and fight, Vivian coined the plan 'The Coward's way out'. Unfortunately, that sometimes meant getting innocent bystanders involved.

Xanthe turned and ran for the nearest exit. She found it in a window and began to run into the city streets. She saw Leon running down the opposite way, but they'd been to Ankyra before, so she knew they still had a chance to meet up before losing their tail.

Using the crowd as a distraction, she weaved through the city center to evade the Romans. She could hear screaming and shouting coming from behind her, but she didn't dare turn around and look. Racing past a market stand, she grabbed a cloth and wrapped it around her face. She shed her cloak and grabbed a new one with a different color and pattern.

She tried to imagine where she and Leon would rendezvous. It had to be the river. There was nowhere else they could escape to and send an Iris message. Perhaps the bathhouse, but it was risky.

As she reached the outskirts of the city, a figure burst out of the building in front of her and raised his sword. Xanthe rolled to the side as the Roman stabbed forward with his weapon. His broad shoulders and thick arms were frightening enough. The mail mask covering his mouth and his shimmering golden chestplate only made it worse. She summoned a blast of water from the well nearby, but there was only enough volume to drench him in water.

She bolted away toward the river, hoping she could reach the little grove by its edge, where the Romans had originally marched from. The Roman kept pace with her, despite the fact that he was wearing armor.

When she finally reached the grove, she turned and raised her spear.

The Roman slowed to a jog, readying his sword for the inevitable duel. She didn't see anyone behind him, which meant he had no reinforcements. Xanthe glanced toward the river. It was close enough for her to use in battle. She grinned behind her cloth face mask and initiated contact.

Since they were both out of breath, she needed to attack immediately. Despite his size, she could overwhelm him with the power of the river and cut him down. The longer she waited, the more disadvantageous a duel would become.

But the Roman was a lot quicker than she expected.

He deflected her strike and countered immediately. He pressed forward, giving her no chance to use a free arm and summon the river to follow her exact commands. His strikes were quick and strong, rattling her teeth each time she parried with the shaft of her spear.

Tyche was on her side when he overexerted himself on a six-strike combo, leaving an opening just wide enough for her to stab him with her spear. As she lunged forward, he tumbled to the ground and narrowly avoided being skewered.

Xanthe summoned the river to knock him to the ground as he struggled to his feet, but it left her weary. Her lungs were screaming for a break, for some air. Several minutes of fighting, of intense exertion, left the two of them heaving for air.

The Roman stood up slowly and stared at her. His eyes were wide, not in fear but in recognition.

Movement flickered in the corner of her eyes as another figure burst onto the scene. The Roman, as if following her eyes, immediately rolled backward. A tendril of lightning hit the spot right where he'd been standing, temporarily blinding Xanthe.

"Xanthe!"

Leon rushed to her side, and the first thing she noticed was the wound on his arm. Her eyes went wide with concern.

She grabbed his arm. "Leon, what happened?!"

It was a bad cut. The wound looked fresh and deep, and he was bleeding badly. Fortunately, it was on his non-sword arm, but that he was wounded in the first place meant that they were on their last legs. Within moments, the other Romans caught up with them, trapping them in the grove. They could try to flee, but it looked like the Romans still had their javelins. They hadn't been stupid and wasted them while chasing Leon through Ankyra.

The Roman she'd duelled took a step toward them. He was still a good twenty or thirty paces in front of his fellow legionnaires, but suddenly he didn't seem like an easy kill.

"Don't summon the river," Leon told her as they slowly backed up. "You look weak."

The Roman continued to advance. He pulled down the mail covering his mouth.

"Xanthe...?"

Xanthe stared at the legionnaire standing in front of her. She lowered her spear.

"I can't believe my father was right," Florian said. He tightened his grip on his sword. "How... how could you kill all my friends?"

"Florian..."

Xanthe couldn't believe it. Her brother was alive.

"You... you really are a Greek demigod."

The Romans behind Florian looked confused, but they didn't intervene. For the moment. Perhaps they knew about the situation. Perhaps Marcus had told them the story. Were they curious? Amused?

"Florian..." Xanthe blinked hard. She felt Leon's hand in hers, squeezing tightly for comfort. "Your legion... They _killed_ Mother."

Florian stared at her like she was a barbarian. The members of the 13th and 14th Legions behind him stirred impatiently. They were waiting for the last remaining legionnaire of the Eleventh to strike down his foes, and it seemed they were ready to do it if he wouldn't.

"We can fight all day if you want," Xanthe begged, "but I'm not lying. I swear it, Florian."

"She's a Greek!" a legionnaire shouted at Florian. "Don't trust her. They're all deceptive, those blasted Greeks. We should just kill them all."

"Killing me won't solve any problems, Florian," Xanthe countered. She stared at her brother and tried to show him the truth through her eyes. His own eyes looked pained, as if he couldn't decide which side to take. "Florian, please. I... I don't want to hurt you."

She nearly jumped when Leon put a hand on her shoulder. The son of Zeus gave her a hard look. "We can't appease them much longer. We have to get back to Thanas and Percy as soon as possible. They're not going to be able to keep the giant eagles at bay, especially given the terrain we're in."

She nodded and looked back at her half-brother.

"It's your turn to make a call," she called out to him. "Fight me or part. We don't have to do this, Florian."

One of the legionnaires growled and drew his gladius. "We don't have time for this. Let's just kill them!"

"Wait!" Florian shouted, but his cries were useless. He'd already proven himself weak in front of the other legionnaires, and his status as the only remaining member of the Eleventh Legion didn't put him in good standing.

The Romans advanced.

Leon stepped in front of her, holding Koptos with his non-dominant hand. The wound on his arm looked worse and worse as time passed. They wouldn't survive if the Romans moved quickly. She was weak from her duel with Florian, and she knew Thanas would only be able to appear once to get them out. She needed mist to send the Iris-message, though, and to do that she needed time.

That was a luxury she was sorely missing.

At that moment, Florian rushed forward.

Leon raised his blade to strike, but just before Florian reached them, he turned and faced the bewildered legionnaires. Raising his own sword, he turned on his fellow Romans.

No one saw it coming.

The legionnaires broke their march and stared at Florian, completely stunned. The expressions on their faces seemed almost like they couldn't even fathom a traitor being amongst them. Leon dropped the tip of his sword too, and he quickly turned to her and gave her the signal.

Xanthe turned and summoned a blast of hot water from the river nearby. The water rushed toward her and exploded, creating a ball of mist in front of her. The sunlight passing through made a faint rainbow in the mist, and she quickly fished for a golden drachma.

She flipped it into the rainbow. "O goddess, accept my offering."

The mist shimmered.

"Athanasios, son of Hades!"

There was a scream from behind her. She whipped her head to see Florian charging in and taking on three legionnaires at once. Florian gored straight through one soldier's mail chest armor. Leon stared, flabbergasted, at the whole situation.

In the mist, a flickering image of Thanas appeared. It looked like he was racing through the woods on horseback.

"Xanthe!" Thanas shouted. "You're okay?"

"Yes!" she yelled back. "We're just west of Ankyra! By the river near the main road!"

Thanas turned to Percy. "I'll see you in Attaleia!"

"Don't be late," Percy warned.

Thanas turned back to her. "Cut the connection."

Xanthe nodded and swiped her hand through the image, dissolving it into fine vapour. Within the time it took to snap her fingers, Thanas morphed out of the shadow of a nearby tree. He extended his arm and yelled at them.

"Leon!" Xanthe shouted.

The son of Zeus snapped to attention and sprung to action. He ran over toward Thanas, grabbing her arm and dragging her with him.

"What's that?" Thanas asked.

Xanthe watched her brother, and she felt a strange sense... as if she'd watched something like this before. Helplessly, and unable to do anything, she watched Florian take three blades. One to his thigh, another to a gap near his armpit, and the last to his shoulder. In his valiant effort, he managed to defeat three of the eight legionnaires. But what could one mortal man do against a unit of Roman warriors?

Florian hadn't even said a parting word to her. Like her mother.

As Thanas began to bring them into shadow travel, Xanthe let out a silent cry. Her brother's sacrifice wouldn't be made in vain. She would end this war, no matter what it took. To stop this endless bloodshed. To stop these needless sacrifices.

She understood, now, their purpose in the war. When Percy showed her the marks on his arm, signifying his service to the Twelfth Legion, all the weird puzzle pieces seemed to fit. But for now, all she could do was cry out in pain... in sorrow... in guilt.

"I love you, Florian."


	30. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_A few days earlier..._

The sound of footsteps grew louder as the young lady approached. It was Zoë.

"You wanted to talk?" the Hunter said.

Irene peered over her shoulder, checking for any stalkers. "You weren't followed, were you?"

"Am I a hunter or a soldier?" Zoë replied.

"Did you come alone?"

Zoë sighed. "Yes, I came alone. Don't worry about any of the other Hunters. I know you don't trust them."

"It's not that I don't trust them," Irene said, giving the night sky a look of distaste. "It's that some of them are actively working against my plans."

The Hunter nodded. "Yes, you've spoken about this before. Phoebe, was it that you blamed?"

"I'm not lying."

"I know. You're not one to lie with such passion."

"Yet you're doing nothing to stop them."

"What do you want me to do?" Zoë leaned against the nearest tree and crossed her arms. "I lead a group of girls who have been wronged by men. They see men as evil, for the most part. How can I take the side of someone who is a physical embodiment of what they hate, apart from his lack of misogynistic tendencies? Especially because Phoebe has convinced them all. Not openly, of course. She thinks I'm still too soft on him and will disapprove."

"Compared to the others, you are soft on him."

"Not as soft as you."

"That's because I've spent intermittent periods with him and support his cause," Irene argued. "You've seen what the Romans have done to the Greeks. If Percy didn't even try to help, the Greeks would be as good as gone."

"I've never disagreed there," Zoë shot back, mildly irritated. "What I disagree with was the slaughter of all the mortals caught in between. Nero's fire? How many innocent lives were taken because of that? What about the Crete earthquake he started? How many innocent lives were taken because he wanted to destroy that legion?"

"You know very well why he had to do it," Irene said.

"I don't care if he was surrounded," Zoë scowled. "He was at the water's edge. Killing a couple of the Neptune kids trying to kill him is acceptable in an escape, but to devastate the entire region because he thought it was a good opportunity is not."

Irene could sense the nervous energy of the dryads around them. They were watching silently, though she was confident that none of them would speak of this to unrelated ears, lest they wanted to be swamped by a wall of sea water. Other than them, and the thumping beat of her heart roaring in her ears, she heard nothing. It was time. It was finally time.

"Phoebe doesn't know that I've told you of her plans, correct?" Irene asked. "She doesn't know that you know she's acting behind your back, right?"

Zoë gave her a wry smile. "Percy's actions have taught me one thing: be careful in trusting others."

"Well, I'm going to need your blind trust in me."

Zoë's expression turned serious. "What does Phoebe have to do with it?"

"Believe her."

Zoë blinked, like she didn't understand what she was hearing. "What?"

It sounded crazy, even in her own thoughts, but Irene continued forward. It was the only option possible without killing him. "Believe Phoebe. Believe that Percy is a monster who deserves to suffer. Believe that Percy should either die or suffer for eternity. Hate him with everything you have."

"...What...?"

Irene could sympathize with the dumbfounded Hunter. "I know it sounds out of the blue. But I think it's the only way. I, for the life of me, can't think of a better plan."

"To fuel his hatred?" Zoë asked, still hesitant.

"Think about it... what does Percy want? It's not just about avenging the fallen Greeks from Roman oppressors. He's using that guise to act the way he wants. He wants Apollo to suffer, and the best way to do that, because he's not powerful enough, is to keep attacking the Romans. Now, here's the thing. The Greeks would never attack the Romans without proper provocation. What would that be? Athens falling. Percy was a part of organizing that. He wanted the Greeks to have the drive for revenge that the Romans did. My brother, Aeneas, passed down a legacy that resented the Greeks because of what happened in Troy. It's why I always thought you were the only one that could stop him, because he never truly cared about the Greeks as a whole... just that they fought by his side."

"You said the Trio could help."

"If he gets personally attached to them," Irene answered. "He's always distanced himself. Who was he involved with the past thousand years? Influencers. Like Leonidas, Caesar, Augustus. Why do you think I wanted him to spend three years with them, training, not leaving Constantinople? And he _has_ become personally attached to them. After all these years, he's always taken it the hardest when those he was close to were taken from him. That's what he's like and has always been like."

"So how does my sudden hatred for him play into this?"

"If we make him believe it's his fault that everyone he cares about is taken away from him, he'll give up... especially if it's the woman he once loved reinforcing that fact. He'll realize that the misery he's faced was his own doing."

"Are you suggesting that the Trio has to die?" Zoë gave her a dark look. "Will that not just encourage more resent and anger?"

Irene shook her head. "Not if we die by our own actions, helping his cause."

"We?"

This was the hardest part. Accepting the truth.

"Yes, Zoë. I have to die."

The Hunter straightened her posture. "Are you insane?"

She focused on her plan, ignoring any concern for her well-being. "I'll convince Percy that you know nothing about Phoebe's exploits. I'll try and make it seem like he's forcing the Trio and I to advance, make him believe and swear by the fact that he's the one leading the charge. The Trio already know some parts of my plan. They know what lies ahead. You need to be outraged at our deaths, especially mine. I don't have the power to kill myself in a way that doesn't involve poison or stabbing myself, so mine will definitely look more suspicious."

"You're sacrificing yourself on a gamble that might not even work!" Zoë exclaimed.

"And if I don't?" Irene met her eyes. "Nothing will change. If our deaths don't cause him to stop, there is no change to the world. Only that four more souls have been added to Hades' realm. If he does stop... then our sacrifice will have been worth it."

The Hunter couldn't stop looking at her incredulously. "You... you would sacrifice your life for him?"

"I guess I would."

Zoë stared into her eyes for a while, as if trying to discern what she was thinking. Irene didn't hold back. She let it all air out. She was scared, of course, but she was also determined. She had an opportunity, and she would rather die than live regretting her decision.

"You love him."

Irene blinked at the sudden remark.

"I can't tell if it's romantic or familial, but you love him," Zoë said.

She looked down. "I've never thought about it that way. But... I know I care about him. In some way. I hope he cares about me, too. At least a little."

"Yeah, otherwise this crazy plan would never work!"

Irene gave her a sad smile. "We haven't always seen eye-to-eye, but I hope that you've seen me like a younger sister. I know you aren't a big fan of my mom but..."

Zoë searched her expression for any sort of hesitation, any sign that it was all a joke. But Irene couldn't have been more sincere. Zoë's expression fell. "I... I don't know if I can act that well."

"You can." Irene put a hand on her shoulder. "Because you're as selfish as I am."

Zoë stared at her curiously.

"Why else wouldn't you have killed Percy by now unless you still cared? If you truly despised Percy, you wouldn't have held back. Instead of giving up on him, letting him do as he wishes, you would actively seek him out and destroy him. It took the Hunters breaking apart, Artemis' plea, my plan, and over a thousand years for you to finally take action. And even then, you agreed with me. We wouldn't kill him unless he tried anything on us."

There was a brief silence as Zoë eyes lingered on her for just a little longer. "You're strong, Irene. Much stronger than I am."

"You taught me a lot," Irene replied, shaking her head. "Who I am today... both you and Percy helped shape me. In my next life, if I'm not sent to the Fields of Punishment for my crimes, maybe I'll become a Hunter. You can teach me how to be strong again."

"You're thinking about your next life already?"

Irene nodded, giving her a sad smile. "It'll be a shame to leave all of this behind, forgetting everything I endured. But, even if I make it to Elysium, I'll try for rebirth. I want to see where my next life will take me. Who knows? Maybe this is my second life. Or, if it's my third, then I could be eligible for the Isles of Blest."

Zoë chuckled softly. "You never were a normal daughter of Aphrodite."

Irene laughed. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked, trying to will them away. "I always hated being controlled. It reminded me too much of my days in Troy with Deiphobus. But, in the end, I've been controlled anyway. By you. By Percy. By the gods. At least... At least this time I'm prepared. This time I'll go out on my own terms."

Zoë wrapped her in a hug. Irene hugged her back, squeezing tightly.

After a while, Zoë pulled away. She squeezed Irene's shoulders, giving her a sad but proud look. "I understand where you're coming from. I still think you're crazy, but I admire you for your guts. I hate to do it, but I'll follow your plan."

"If you ever feel hesitant... just think about me and Percy. Do it for me. Do it for him. Don't be afraid to be selfish."

She nodded, albeit hesitantly.

"And swear on the Styx that you won't tell him the details of this conversation if you run into him."

She complied.

Irene felt the weight lift off her chest.

Zoë squeezed her shoulders one last time before she let go and backed away. Irene smiled and waved as she disappeared into the woods.

She took a deep breath, thinking about Zoë's words: _You love him._

"Yeah, I do. He's the only family I've got."

* * *

_Present day..._

No rest for the weary.

The moment Xanthe and Leon returned to Thanas, Percy and Irene, they were off to the next stage of their plan.

Attaleia had been a target for a while. It was the next city on the list after they'd taken Colossae. Much like the old Greek settlers before them, taking control of the coastline had always been an easier task. Since they had the advantage at sea, with her and Percy, it was better to let the Romans try to advance inland. The geography of Anatolia wasn't kind to advancing armies. The best they could do was raid, just like they'd done in Ankyra.

Nevertheless, when she tearfully told them about Damianos and the other Greeks at Ankyra, the five of them made a journey back for the day to honor the dead.

After that, it was back to work.

They needed to distract the Romans to give Alexandros and Viviana the time to relocate the fleeing Greek forces. The Romans, if it hadn't been orchestrated by them, would have received word that the Greek stronghold at Constantinople had fallen. They would gather their forces and march to intercept. If there was one thing about the Romans that she'd learned over the years, it was that they were experts at mobility. Cohorts of Romans could travel across long stretches of land in a fraction of the time it would take for the same amount of Greek demigods.

Bandits were the first target. The Romans had set up a network of local seafarers in Attaleia to sail up and down the coast and raid and kidnap Greek demigods. Ephesus, Smyrna, Sardis and Pergamum were prime targets. Most of the kidnappings had come from those towns.

It wasn't like they hadn't dealt with bandits before, but Attaleia was their base. It wasn't like hunting them down as they fled.

Percy had advocated for converting the bandits to their side. It would provide a distraction which they could act on. But he'd also advocated moving more quickly onto the Roman position, before they could get set up.

Irene resisted as best as she could, but Percy's will always won in the end.

Xanthe and Irene were out on a scouting mission looking for any stray bandits.

"Get down and stay out of sight," Irene suddenly ordered.

Xanthe followed the order, wondering if there were bandits nearby that Irene wanted to trap.

But after a few moments, she heard a familiar, gruff voice say, "I should have known you'd be trouble."

It wasn't a bandit.

"Phoebe, leave us alone," Irene warned. "If you continue to press, you'll disrupt our plan."

"I don't care about that stupid plan of yours," Phoebe snarled. "You broke it on your own when you decided that you would switch our roles. Zoë agreed to corner Percy while you destroyed his network of spies. Not the other way around!"

"Why are you so insistent on killing Percy?" Irene shot back. "What makes you think that killing him will solve everything?"

"I don't think it will solve everything," the Hunter said darkly. "But it will solve what matters most."

Xanthe had no idea what was going on, but she stayed hidden where Irene had told her to wait. She kept her breathing soft and slow so that she could listen in on the conversation and not give up her position.

"You mean Zoë? You think killing Percy will finally free Zoë from her past?"

"It's worth a shot."

Irene let out a bark of laughter. "So you think killing Percy will make Zoë snap out of her trance, stop valuing Percy as a friend, and move on in the blink of an eye? How stupid are you?"

"As long as he lives, Zoë will always wonder what life could have been like had she not joined the Hunters. She will never reach her true potential as our lieutenant."

"And because he's dead, she will no longer think about that?"

Phoebe didn't say anything. Xanthe could understand the Hunter's argument, in part. There was more to it than just Zoë. There was the fact that Percy was leading a centuries-long war that had cost thousands of lives. There was the fact that he had slaughtered wholescale without regard for allegiances and without regard for culpability. Phoebe wanted to eliminate what she thought was a threat to humankind. In a way, she was right. But killing Percy solved nothing. That was something the gods and Irene had figured out a long time ago.

But Phoebe was desperate. It seemed like the Hunters were caught up in the war because of how involved both the Greeks and the Romans were getting. They must've been pressured and attacked and harassed by both sides simply because they weren't choosing one over the other.

"You realize that you're part of the reason why Percy is the way he is now, don't you?" Irene asked, her voice still laced with anger. "If he'd been left alone, or had been respected, instead of being tossed aside like a toy, he would never have gone down this path. Do you hate him because he's killed innocent women in his path to destruction? Because I've killed innocent women before, too. I killed my brother's wife simply for being my brother's wife. I killed maids and servants who tried to help me during my darkest days with the near-zero power they had over the situation. Does that brand me a traitor and a disgrace to you?"

Phoebe hesitated. "That's..."

"Different? Because I'm a girl and he's a boy? Because all boys must be pacified, reduced to nothing, turned to beasts, even the innocent ones, because of what the guilty do? I don't claim to be morally superior to you, Phoebe. I don't claim to know more than you about this. But I see no wrong that Percy has committed that I haven't considered or done myself. Maybe I become frustrated and angry with his decisions. But, in the end, he's capable of compassion and empathy if you give him the chance. If you never give him a chance to be kind, then how will he ever be kind?"

"You're blinded by love."

"And you're blinded by irrational hate!"

The two had a brief standoff, glaring at each other in silence. The air was rife with tension. Xanthe held her breath, waiting for whoever made the next strike. She could feel her heart thumping her chest so loud that she could hear the rush of blood in her ears, as if it was ready to explode.

"What about the lives we've saved by fighting the Romans?" Irene asked. "Do those Greek lives mean nothing to you?"

Phoebe stared at her with a conflicted expression. "I have no desire to hurt you, Irene. You have helped us over the centuries, keeping in touch with Percy and informing us of his whereabouts. But I cannot gloss over the fact that you've become infatuated with Percy for a seemingly inexplicable reason. He will only hurt you in the end. Just as he's hurt us!"

"Then I will suffer the consequences of my decisions," Irene replied. She hesitated, as if she had suddenly registered something that Phoebe had said. But she continued like she'd heard nothing. "I have no fear, no regrets. I would rather die to save him than live and hurt him. He saved me from the dark place I was in after Athena saved me and made me immortal. If I throw him aside, then I have no right to live a happy life. It is my duty to save him from his dark place."

"If you do that, I may have to kill you one day."

"We'll see if you _can_."

Another Hunter rushed down to Phoebe, an arrow already notched and ready to fire. Her expression was urgent. "Zoë's found the bandits' tracks. We have to go. Now!"

Phoebe turned to Irene. "I suppose you're not joining us and the Amazons."

"When it comes to those bandits, you'll need all the help you can get," Irene said grimly. She glanced in the direction where Xanthe was hiding. "But I need to take care of our matters first. We won't hunt alongside you, but Percy's caught their trail as well. The bandits are working with the Romans for now. We'll send a team of demigods to intercept the convoy, and the two of us will track down the shitheads."

"I better not see Percy," Phoebe scowled.

"Don't worry," Irene shot back. "We'll find them long before you do. You won't have a chance to see Percy."

Xanthe didn't move from her position, afraid that the Hunter would notice her presence. She waited until Irene walked up to her before letting go of the breath she'd been holding.

Irene was looking back toward where Phoebe had approached and left with a frown on her face.

"What's wrong?" Xanthe asked.

Irene helped her to her feet. She pursed her lips and then said, "It doesn't seem like she was the one who fired the arrows that exploded in Nicaea. Or that she'd even given the orders to fire the arrows."

"If the Hunters were behind this—"

"I shouldn't be _if_. They _were_ behind what happened in Constantinople. Otherwise, there's no one else. Romans would never use Greek fire."

Xanthe nodded reluctantly. "Okay, so since the Hunters were behind this, isn't it only Phoebe that would attack us? The other girl, Zoë, didn't seem like she would hunt us down. By your words and by our encounter with her three years ago."

"I..." Irene trailed off, as if considering the possibility. "Zoë wouldn't... would she?"

Xanthe wasn't sure what to say. It was difficult trying to manage two objectives at once, especially with how at odds they seemed to be. They needed to both continue the war effort and manage Percy's fate.

Irene shook her head. "Let's continue with the hunt for the bandits."

As they continued onward, Xanthe got the feeling that Irene was hiding something from her. She told her, Leon and Thanas that it would all end soon. What if that didn't mean the conflict with Percy would end? What if that didn't mean the war with the Romans would end?

Irene had the same kind of expression her mother had on the day the camp was attacked. She had the same kind of expression her brother had just a few days prior.

Like she was going to die. And she knew it.


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Percy couldn't help himself.

He knew it was dangerous developing strong feelings for someone. If anyone found out who he truly cared about, they could use that to their advantage and throw him off the trail. He would no longer be able to dictate the battles or the war. If he cared about someone enough, he wouldn't let them go for the sake of the grander picture.

It was easier with Zoë because she was a Hunter. There were boundaries that prevented him from fully expressing his feelings. Time and distance cooled any burning passion he may have had for her. A part of him still did love her, even if she had given up on him.

When Irene decided that she had enough and glued herself to his side, he became more cognizant of all the time they had spent together in the past. In his hazy memories, she had always tried to be there when he needed someone the most. He knew she saw him as an idol, like a figure worth looking up to. He knew that her faith in him waned as the Republic grew larger and larger, and his involvement in political affairs became stronger. But, for some reason, she returned.

He should have been mad that Irene had broken through the wall he put up, but he just felt happy.

"Percy, stop."

He looked up to face the owner of the voice.

Zoë was alone. He didn't sense the presence of any Hunters hidden in the woods around them. But he could never be too careful. He kept a watchful eye out as she approached him. Zoë and Irene were probably still in touch, and perhaps Irene had let Zoë know of their whereabouts. Perhaps she had planned the whole debacle in Constantinople. He didn't blame Irene. It was an obligation of hers. He just hoped the other Hunters weren't anywhere nearby. Any group with Phoebe in it would never result in a peaceful conversation.

He'd hoped to have gotten rid of the bandits before the Hunters found them, but he overheard Xanthe talking to Leon and Thanas about a run-in she and Irene had with Phoebe. It was only a matter of time before they finally got to him. Irene tried to reassure him that Phoebe was acting behind Zoë's back and that it was Phoebe that was ultimately leading the Hunters to help with the fight against the bandits. He wasn't that blind; he knew Irene had called them in just in case he went haywire. And that Zoë must've known all about Phoebe's exploits.

The silver aura around her was weaker than he remembered. "Have things been rough?" he asked.

She nodded. "They have." Then she gave him a long, hard look. "You look well, though."

"Things were going well," he agreed. He shot her a wry smile. "Up until a few days ago. You know. Right until we were forced to flee Constantinople."

Zoë eyed him carefully. "Do you blame us?"

"Maybe. There's a slim chance it was the Romans. Either way, it just speeds up my plan. If it wasn't the Romans, then we may be able to catch them off guard."

Zoë nodded again. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she skirted around the edges of the topic, like she was afraid to bring it to attention.

"I hear you were tracking the bandits," he said.

"I knew they would lead me straight to you," she replied. "And we would be able to help innocent young women in the process."

"I'm surprised you exposed yourself, considering your team nearly blew us up in Nicaea."

She gave him a weird look. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, was that Phoebe, then?"

"We were never in Nicaea."

"Don't lie to me."

"We never went to Nicaea," she repeated, her gaze unwavering. "We went straight to Pergamum. Your spy network was monitoring the situation with the pirates and bandits. They fed us valuable information about your plans and your status. Why do you think your Anatolian spies were never killed? Why do you think your Illyrian spies _were_ killed?"

He hesitated. He didn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, but Zoë had never been much of a fibber. When she didn't want to tell the truth, she would just ignore the person bothering her.

But, then, who was behind the explosive arrow?

"But that's not why I'm here."

Percy stared at her curiously as she took a deep breath, settling her nerves and gathering the courage to finally state her purpose.

"I... spent a lot of time thinking. I'm sure you knew, or at least had a hunch, that Irene and I have been in contact. We met a couple days before the incident at Constantinople. We spoke, and she told me something I spent a lot of time thinking about. Something that I agreed with at first." She paused. "But, after more thought, I realized that it doesn't have to be this way."

Percy met her eyes. They were dark and bold, just as they always had been. But her gaze was different. It was full of worry.

"Irene may have lived for over a thousand years, but she's no child of Athena. You have to stop before she does something you can't reverse."

"What are you talking about?"

He was startled by her words. Was she purposely being vague? Why was she speaking as if he was already aware of the situation?

"I swore on the Styx I would never reveal the details," Zoë said, her eyes pleading. He hadn't seen that look from her in a while. "But you have to believe me. Irene is going to do something stupid, and Phoebe isn't going to help the situation. It may be too late to change their minds, but what they choose to do depends on your own actions. Stop the attack. Find Chiron and rebuild the camp. If you do that, there won't be any unnecessary—" She stopped herself suddenly, as if unable to say the next word.

"Did you expect that I would agree if you showed up and threw something at my face like this?" he asked. "You're not very convincing, you know."

She stared at the ground with a clenched jaw. "I don't have the time to try and convince you the traditional way. All of this makes me regret ever doubting you and breaking our trust. If I hadn't, you'd just listen to me and stop before it gets out of hand."

"I'm glad you understand that everything that's happened isn't all my fault."

She looked conflicted. "Percy, this isn't the time—"

"There is one thing you can do to regain my trust."

For one moment, she looked surprised. Then, her gaze turned desperate. "What?"

"Call off the Hunters," he said firmly, holding her gaze. "Show me the power of the lieutenant of Artemis. Call off the Amazons. None of them can help the Romans. None. If you can do that, I'll retreat."

"Did Irene tell you we brought the Amazons in on it?"

"Maybe. If you go tell them off, I'll retreat."

"You know the Amazons won't listen to my orders. They're not within my sphere of influence."

"You can give it a shot. Irene's always keeping in contact with you, isn't she? She can be pretty convincing."

"She's part of the problem!"

"What problem?"

"The problem I swore to the Styx that I would never reveal! I already told her that I would follow her plan. You're the only one that can change the path we're headed on."

"How does that even—?"

She cut him off with a fierce glare. Only Zoë could scare him with just the look in her eyes. He wasn't afraid of too much else. "I wouldn't spend my time doing this if I didn't think it was worth it." Her gaze softened a touch. "I mean it, Percy. Irene isn't going to back down this time. She's more determined than ever. Why do you think she's spending so much time around you? Do you think she's doing it to tag along? She wants you to change."

"I know that—"

"Then why do you continue forging forward? Because she's not stopping you adamantly? Don't you think her doing so seems too good to be true after everything you went through?"

Percy clenched his jaw. "That's not what Irene is doing. She's staying by me to help rein me in. But she's letting me make my own decisions. She's letting me control my fate instead of my strings pulled for me. No one ever gave me a chance at just being... me. The world seemed like it just wanted me to bow down and eat shit. Why would I want to do that?"

Her eyes were pained, like she was torn when she looked at him. "Percy, you—"

"I don't remember the last time you ever spoke to me like this," he continued, his anger growing. "Guess why you've changed. It's because of Irene. Irene has helped you change. She's done so much for us without us even knowing it. She's helped us throughout the centuries when we've been at our lowest!"

"Why do you think I want to save her from what she has planned?!" Zoë exclaimed. She was tearing up, though it eluded him whether it was out of anger and frustration or regret and sorrow. "I don't want her to go through with it! We might not always trust each other, but..." She trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right words to say. "Can you please trust me? Just this once."

He wanted to. But, based on Xanthe's conversation with Leon that he'd eavesdropped on, Phoebe was hunting him down. He didn't doubt Zoë, but he couldn't trust what the Hunters would do afterward. They could easily turn on him and hunt him down while his back was turned.

_But you trusted Irene!_ a part of his mind argued.

_That's different_, he thought. _Irene's been by my side. Zoë hasn't._

"I'll do everything in my power to convince Phoebe to stop," she said. "I know Irene wants you to believe that I'm stupid and I don't know anything, but there's a way we can stop her from executing her plan. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try. The Amazons are a different story. I have no hope in controlling them. But, with the Hunters, I can at least minimize the number of Hunters that join Phoebe on her hunt."

He stared into her eyes. Zoë had never been a great actor, not like Irene. And though Irene tended to show her genuine self, Zoë was equally as transparent. At least, in situations like these. She wasn't lying. He knew that. She could've been hiding the truth, but at least she hadn't lied to him.

The Hunters were Zoë's team. He knew she cherished each and every one of them, even the ones that were out for his blood. Looking at her, he couldn't imagine the pain she would have to endure if he killed any of her Hunters. He couldn't do that to her. He didn't want to do that to her.

But what was Irene planning? The way Zoë spoke made it seem like she was going to sacrifice herself. For what reason? How would her sacrifice help him in the end?

Was it even meant to help him? What if Irene's plan was to backstab him? Would Zoë even be worried about that? No, she was worried that Irene was going to get hurt. If Zoë was confronting _him_ about it, there was no way she would be planning to backstab him. At very least, she wouldn't backstab him if it was true that they weren't trying to play mind games. It was getting confusing.

"Just because I don't love you anymore, doesn't mean I can't care for you as a friend," Zoë said through watery eyes. "And Irene... who was like another sister of mine..."

"Was..." He raised an eyebrow. "Is she going to threaten to kill herself if I don't stop? Does she think that will work? Does she have the guts to kill herself without knowing the outcome?"

Zoë shut her eyes tight and looked down, her lips quivering.

"I don't believe you." He clenched his jaw. Irene wasn't that stupid. She would never concoct a plan like that. "If you're here to throw me off, it's not going to work. Irene will side with me in the end. I know it."

The Hunter shook her head. For a moment, she seemed to be contemplating what to say. Her torn expression faded, replaced by a look of anger. "For once, can you think about someone other than yourself?!"

"Don't give me that bullshit."

"Fuck you!" Zoë gave him a hard shove, forcing him back a few steps. "I'm trying to help!"

"Yeah, sure. That's a good way to help me. Cuss me out more, why don't you?"

She put a hand to her belt, where her hunting knife was.

"What are you going to do?" he asked with a cold laugh. "Kill me? Can you even kill me?"

Trembling, she drew her knife and threw it at his feet.

He stared at it. Then he looked up at her.

"_Anerríphtho kývos_," she said before she turned on her heels and marched away from him.

No other words needed to be said. Just as Caesar had done before he crossed the Rubicon, all she needed to do was utter that simple phrase. Now, there was certainty that Zoë and the Hunters were going to forego all customs and traditions.

It was, effectively, her declaration of war.

* * *

Irene glared at the mortal. "Stay back. He'll meet you outside."

"Feisty," the bandit purred. "I like a wild ride sometimes."

She clenched her fists but held her tongue. She couldn't afford to get in a fight. Otherwise, her plan would fail. Calming her nerves, she held her gaze and continued to stare down the outlaw son of Poseidon.

Percy arrived a few moments later.

"There he is," the bandit said. "The man of the hour. How are you doing, brother?"

Percy curled his lips for a moment, obviously displeased that the bandit seemed to think they were close enough to warrant any sort of companionship. But he forced a smile and bowed his head. "You have the Romans?"

"Of course."

"Let's see them."

The bandit glanced at Irene. "Is your lovely wife coming?"

Percy nodded. "She is. Not my wife, but she's off-limits regardless."

"As if I don't know," the bandit chuckled. He gave Percy a sly smile. "I know you want her all to yourself."

Irene resisted the urge to drive a dagger through the bandit's throat.

"Let's see them," Percy insisted, sensing her tension.

"Very well."

The bandit led them to his little campsite down the road. There were a couple of his helpers. Dressed in grey clothes that blended well with the forest around them, they ran around cleaning things up. At the center of the site, ringed around a dying campfire, were ten Roman prisoners. Six of them were female, and the majority looked younger than Percy's physical form. The youngest was a boy, who hardly looked older than six. All of them looked tired and weary, some with fresh wounds from cuts all over their arms and legs. Their feet were covered with bruises and calluses, and some had swelling from mosquito bites.

All of the prisoners were tied together with rope. Irene suspected that most of them would have rope burns around their wrists with how defeated they looked. Bandits weren't exactly known for their hospitality. Chances were high that they'd already sexually abused some of the girls.

As Percy went to discuss terms with the bandit, Irene went over to the prisoners to check on their health.

The oldest was a girl, probably around her own physical age, with bruises on her neck. Irene twitched, recalling her old memories. She took a closer look at the marks. The imprints were more prominent on one side than the other. She held out her hand and imagined the grip. It matched.

Shuddering in disgust, she went around to each person to check on their health. A few were sickly with pace faces and were shivering despite the daylight. The two youngest were staring blankly at the ground, as if they couldn't comprehend the situation. Or maybe they didn't _want _to understand the situation. She empathized.

All of them were legacies. Each had the tattoo on their forearms.

Irene fed everyone a small bite of ambrosia.

"Thank you," the youngest boy said, munching on the tiny chunk like he was trying to save as much as he could. He looked skinny and malnourished, and it made her angrier. It was one thing to die in battle, fighting against the enemy. It was another to be captured and suffer agonizingly until death.

She stood up and turned toward Percy. He was walking over, eyeing the prisoners.

"You can't do this," she told him. "You can't leave the girls with him."

Percy's eyes flickered toward the oldest girl, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, Irene. It's part of the deal."

She shook her head insistently. "It doesn't have to be. Do you have to work with scum like this?"

"It makes them an easier target for the Hunters," he shot back. "I'm making large, clumsy movements. If they track me, they'll be able to find them and hunt them down. If I'm going to help make this world a better place, what's the harm in sending a bunch of bandits to certain death against the Hunters?"

"I thought this was about Apollo!" she said angrily, trying to hush her voice so the bandits wouldn't hear.

"It is! The bandits will now attack the Romans, which is good for hurting Apollo. So, while the Romans suffer, the Hunters can swoop in and clean up the bandits." He paused. "Listen, I don't like what they do either. The sooner we deal with them, the faster we can move on to Tarsus."

Irene crossed her arms and turned away, acting fed up. It wasn't hard to muster up the emotions to fake it, since a part of her truly felt angry. But it was all heading according to plan. She just needed to get Phoebe's group right on their tail.

"Hey." Percy touched her arm gently. His expression was soft and apologetic. "We have to do it. The kids have been kicked out of Constantinople, and this time it wasn't my doing. I should've been more careful, but I owe it to them to fight for their survival. Especially the Trio."

Now that Zoë had pointed out how Irene felt, Irene couldn't help but notice how youthful he looked. While his expression was full of the pain and anger of someone who had experienced a long, hard life, he was strong and athletic. And his gentle gaze, a reminder of the time before his exile, almost melted her act. She caught herself at the last moment, clenching her jaw and muttering something incoherent, even to herself, underneath her breath.

As was promised, the bandit gave them all the boys while keeping the girls. After a little negotiation, Percy managed to wrestle away the youngest girls, arguing that they wouldn't have the "features" the bandits wanted. Irene wanted to save the oldest, but neither she nor Percy could come up with a reasonable excuse.

They brought the Romans to a secluded area nearby, lining them up in the clearing.

Irene watched, fully expecting Percy to execute them, one by one.

But, after he lined them up, he took a long look at her. She ignored his gaze, trying to pretend like she didn't notice. She met the eyes of all the boys. And the girls. They seemed to think that this was their end as well. No one spoke up. The Romans resigned themselves to their fate.

The young boy popped the last bit of the ambrosia into his mouth, his eyes teary. Irene nearly broke down crying herself. That would be the boy's last meal before his death. It would be his last act.

Percy made his way to the front and said, "You're free."

Irene looked up at him in shock. She couldn't believe her ears.

Neither could the Romans.

"After I'm done talking, I'm going to slash you all free from your ropes and bounds," he continued. "I'm not going to give you weapons. I'm not going to give you food. There will be no help getting to the nearest village or town. There will be no medic to treat your sicknesses. I'm sure you all know we're fairly close to Attaleia. You might want to head there before anywhere else. You can choose to leave this life and live somewhere away from this stupid world for the rest of your days. You can choose to return to a legion and risk dying by my hand another day. You can choose to attack me right here and right now if you wish to die _today_. Regardless, you are free. The choice is yours."

Irene put a hand on his shoulder as he took a step forward. "Are you serious?"

She met his eyes again. They were softer than usual.

"Yes, I'm serious, Irene."

She stared at him for what seemed like ages. Was it possible for him to change without having to kill herself? Her hopes were beginning to rise, but she suppressed them. If she raised her hopes, she would only end up disappointed.

Irene was startled at the sudden change. Even just a few days ago, he'd been anxious to keep moving and destroy the last legions. And that meant obliterating any trace of the Romans, regardless of whether the stray Romans wanted to surrender or not. Before, this had been a war of annihilation. No side could win without the complete extinction of the other.

She reminded herself that Percy's ultimate goal was still to hurt Apollo. Hunting down the Romans was his only current way of doing so.

As Percy cut through their bounds, every single one of the Romans left the clearing. A couple of the older ones helped the young kids move along. The Romans' training began to show as they moved as a unit, scouting ahead and making sure the coast was clear. In spite of their weak condition, they were doing everything they could to survive.

There was no guarantee that they wouldn't return to the legion to fight again, but Irene couldn't help but smile. This was what she'd learned over the centuries. That, ultimately, if people could learn how to be compassionate and kind to everyone, instead of just their own group, they were capable of peace. If a child of Rome could understand that and bring the Athena Parthenos home, the rift would be healed.

"Are you that happy?" Percy asked.

She broke out of her stupor and looked at him. "What?" she glanced back in the direction the Romans had disappeared to. "Oh. Yeah. I am."

He nodded and gave her a smile. "I'm glad you're happy. I feel a lot better when you're smiling."

"Are you hitting on me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ha!" He bumped her shoulder lightly. "You wish."

"And if I do?"

"Sorry, I don't have time for love."

She laughed. It was good to laugh.

"Is that funny?" he snickered.

"You're laughing too!" she pointed out.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Because you're being weird."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

But instead of shooting back a retort, he put a hand on top of her head and patted her gently. With a wistful smile, he said, "When I first became immortal, after Zoë left for the Hunters, I reflected back on my life. Up to that point, I only experienced sixteen years of life, but one thing I'd wanted was a sibling. I would've been okay with a brother or a sister. My family was gone. My mom died when I was young. Zoë wasn't a sibling to me. Jason turned back on his word. If only I had a sibling whom I could turn to no matter what. That was a wish that I'd had for years."

Sometimes it was easy to forget that he was born a generation earlier than her. If he never became immortal, he probably should've been somewhere between 40 or 50 when the Trojan War ended. Maybe even older. She couldn't imagine him at any other physical age than 16.

"Thank you for not giving up on me after all this time," he said.

"I feel like you've said this before."

"It's worth repeating, no?"

She smiled. Suddenly, a thought came to her mind. She remembered Percy's old memory of Mei, the girl in the Far East whom he'd cherished as a sister. She put her arms around him and embraced him tightly. "I feel like this could be seen the wrong way, but listen to my words carefully. You may feel thankful toward me for sticking by you, but I also feel thankful toward you for being there for me. You're what I wanted Aeneas to be. Not without faults. Not without poor decisions. But someone who isn't afraid to acknowledge when he has made a mistake."

"Are you drunk?" he scoffed. "Where have you been the past millennium while I've been brutally killing any Roman or Greek in my way?"

"It's a war," she said. "If you don't kill anyone, it means you're losing."

"I mean, that's true, but—"

"Oh, just forget about it." She pulled away from the hug. "I'm trying to compliment you."

"I'm not feeling the genuineness," he remarked sarcastically.

She punched his shoulder. "Shut up."

He grinned.

Irene sighed. She put her hands on his shoulders. "I just want you to be happy. You don't deserve this eternal torment. Perhaps you're twisted in a way, and it's hard to ignore your wrongdoings, but had the gods not shunned you in the first place, based on what I know about you, I think you would've turned out to be a pretty nice and normal person. Aside from the whole immortality thing."

"I will be happy." He put his hands on her shoulders and nodded confidently, staring into her eyes. "I think I've finally found it. After this whole ordeal is over, if I survive through it all, I know what I want."

Irene wanted to shake her head, to tell him that he could be happy without finishing this ordeal. But she was afraid it would backfire. Was it possible for her to save him without taking her own life? If she just spoke up, told him that she wanted to be his partner forever, went straight for Olympus to demand some sort of apology out of Apollo through Athena, could she do it?

_Break him_, the voice in her mind told her. Minerva's voice. _Break him to save him._

She pressed her lips together and smiled. "This ordeal? Let's get this shit done."


	32. Chapter 30

Note: When I edited this chapter, it felt a little choppy and rough at times, but I hope the general idea and premise is still understood.

* * *

**Chapter 30**

Xanthe sprinted through the trees.

"On your right!" Leon's voice came from her left. "Catch him!"

She poured on the speed, strapping her spear to her back, and drew a hunting dagger from her belt. They couldn't let him get away. Not again.

The wind whipped by her face as she angled right and began her descent down the slope. She leaped over tree roots and ducked beneath branches, desperate to find a glimpse of the fleeing Roman.

A shrill whistle came from somewhere ahead. It was Thanas' signal. He'd cut the Roman off.

Irene had taught them how to tell which direction sound was coming from, even through thick forests. Her ears and her head told her that Thanas had shadow-travelled somewhere farther to the right, meaning the Roman had to cut back left if he wanted to continue to flee.

"Leon!" she shouted. "Fly and cut him off ahead!"

"On it!"

Xanthe diverted her course to the left, maintaining a wide approach just in case the Roman decided to turn back toward her.

Her breaths grew shorter and shorter the farther they ran, but they were up against an aged man. Their stamina would last longer than his.

Eventually, she spotted him. He was near a clearing, in front of her but slightly off to the right. She gritted her teeth and charged toward him. He'd slowed down, looking like his age had finally caught up with him. Despite his strength, his days of youth were over. There was a reason why he made others do his dirty work.

Xanthe caught him at the edge of the clearing. He noticed her at the last second and tried to raise his blade to parry her strike. But she caught him on his non-sword side. She slammed her shoulder into him and drove the dagger into his side. The momentum carried them both into the clearing, and Xanthe rolled to reduce the impact of her tumble.

The Roman's sword was on the other side of the clearing, leaving him defenseless and wounded. The dagger stuck out of his side. It wasn't high enough to pierce his heart, but it would be enough to slowly kill him.

Thanas and Leon appeared, cutting off the other angles of escape, trapping the Roman between the three of them. Leon moved forward, forcing the Roman's feet together and driving Koptos through his ankles and pinning him to the ground.

Xanthe got to her feet slowly and approached the man.

He was grimacing in pain, his hand on his side near the dagger. His eyes were weary, as if life had finally caught up to him, as if he'd aged fifty years since the last time they saw him.

"You're more gullible than I thought you'd be, Marcus," she said.

The Roman looked up at her and sneered, "You know nothing, little girl."

"Little girl?" she scoffed. She grabbed her spear and stabbed the point into the ground next to his head, causing him to flinch. "Maybe relative to you, I'm little. But I'm not the innocent girl you saw three years ago at camp. If it wasn't for others, I would have killed you ten times over already."

"Ooh, you scare me," he mocked, trying to feign amusement. But she could see the fear in his eyes. It had occurred to him that these might be his final moments.

"You did exactly what we wanted you to do when we let you go," she told him. "I was hesitant. I thought, considering how you'd found out exactly how to play with Leon's weaknesses, that you'd think this through. No, then again, I suppose it was hearing about your son's actions that riled you up, that made you act stupid."

"Don't you dare mention that traitor in my presence," Marcus snarled.

"He may have been a traitor to Rome, but he knew where his loyalties lied. He was true to himself until the very end. You were never there to raise him. You were a distant figure in his life, only appearing to use him as a tool to continue your hideous family line. What human could possibly be loyal to an animal like you?"

Marcus glared at her.

"Do you think fear and power is enough to control the will of others?" Xanthe asked. "You may control the weak-minded, those who don't have the power to defend themselves. But, ultimately, it only takes one successful traitor to destroy the delicate balance you've tried to instill."

"The only reason your family ever held power was because the Roman legions continued to exist," Thanas added coldly. "Without the protection of the legion, without the Roman propensity for tradition, your family would have died out a long time ago."

"You fools will never understand the power of the legions," Marcus said with a hateful glower. "The Roman legions become more powerful the more Greeks we kill."

"That may be true," Leon said, "but you seem to think the legions are the only way forward. You seem to think that, somehow, the Greeks won't evolve and reconquer the territory stolen from us by the Romans. As if the Romans are the final evolution. Look at where you are now."

The Trio looked at each other.

"It only took four demigods to destroy almost an entire legion," Xanthe said. She turned back to Marcus. "And, actually, it only took one Greek demigod to destroy the Thirtieth.

"You think you can intimidate me with such foolish lies?" Marcus laughed.

He laughed so loudly and brashly that Xanthe thought he had one last trick up his sleeve. For a moment, she thought of the possibility that Romans were hidden in the forest, ready to strike at them when given the order. But then she noticed something in the laugh that didn't seem right. She noticed Leon's slight frown, like he'd picked up on it too. Marcus wasn't laughing because he was amused. He was laughing because he was scared.

She curled her lip and gave him a humorless smile. His laugh faltered, and Thanas came to the same cold realization.

"You're done, Marcus." She tore her spear from the soil and planted a foot on Marcus' abdomen, causing him to grunt in pain. She could see blood in his mouth. "It hurt to believe that I killed Florian for all those years. But now that I've seen the truth, seen his health, seen what he did in the end to protect me... The only one that's disappointed is you. Both my mother and my half-brother sacrificed themselves to protect someone they loved. You wouldn't know how to do that."

"You..."

"You're even scared to die now," she continued, pressing her foot down harder. "If we gave you the option to save your own life, I'd be willing to bet that you would do anything to save yourself."

Marcus gritted his teeth.

"You might try to convince yourself that you would be remembered by Rome as the martyr who sacrificed his life in order to destroy the filthy Greeks. But, in reality, they wouldn't write that about you. They'll call you the failure of your family. You are the only father, only winner who was unable to raise a proper heir. All of your children were slaughtered. You died heirless to a handful of pathetic Greeks. You'll be a laughing stock in Roman history. You'll be nothing more than a footnote. Or, perhaps more likely, your family's legacy will die out with you."

The Roman spat at her.

She smirked as it fell short, landing the patch of grass between them.

"You know nothing about honor," he snarled. "You know nothing about sacrifice. You think you will win this war? No, your hubris will bring about your downfall."

"Don't project yourself onto us," she replied. "We may not achieve peace. But we will achieve victory. And it's a shame you'll never see it."

"You will rot in the Fields of Punishment!"

Xanthe sneered. "I can't wait to meet you there."

She raised her spear and drove it down into Marcus' chest, through his heart, and ending it all.

* * *

"How do you feel?" Irene asked Xanthe.

"Vindicated but filthy," the daughter of Poseidon replied.

Percy understood the sentiment. True change was only possible with sacrifice. That didn't always mean sacrificing one's life but rather one's humanity. It was cruel. But he'd once heard someone say that the few get their hands dirty so that the many live with clean hands. It was a proper sentiment in their given circumstance.

"That leaves our job here in Attaleia complete," Percy said. He looked at the map on the table. "Our next stop is Tarsus, where the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Legions are situated. If we draw them out in detail, we can defeat them."

Irene nodded. "It'll be difficult to face the entire Roman force. It'll be even more difficult to draw them out in detail. They know we're severely weakened. Their eagles will have made that ultimately clear."

"They'll stick together, won't they?" Thanas guessed. "They'll wait until we arrive and then try to crush us."

"Probably."

"Which is why we must arrive quietly," Percy responded. He turned to Irene. "We will take the Labyrinth to Tarsus. It is the easiest way for us to arrive unannounced. The Romans won't dare travel underground. Especially not in the Labyrinth. The battleground there disadvantages them significantly."

"It's going to be dangerous down there," Irene warned them.

"Which is why we must stick together until we're out of there." Percy looked at Thanas. "Even if you are Hades' son, the Labyrinth is a layer above the Underworld. It isn't your domain or your territory. I don't want to lose any of you. I realize that you're all here for your own reasons, but I also recognize that you're here because of me. I chose you three to be my heroes, and you've responded by being even more than I could imagine. I won't let anyone be harmed."

The Trio nodded. Irene gave him a small smile.

"What's the status on the Hunters?" Thanas asked. "They're close, aren't they?"

Irene nodded. "Very. I've cut off contact with them ever since we arrived in Attaleia, but I'm sure they'll figure out where we're headed. Phoebe will lead them. Zoë won't be far behind."

"Then we'd better get going," Percy said.

Within an hour, the five of them packed their belongings, burned the rest, and left to the nearest Labyrinth entrance.

With Ariadne's string, navigating to Tarsus was easy. They avoided traps and monsters that were surely waiting for them in the dark. It was a quiet journey, an uneventful journey. Until the end.

"Someone's following us," Leon said.

Percy searched the walls for the symbol of Daedalus. "How can you tell?"

"I... I don't know. Something just feels off."

"Got it!" Percy pressed against the tiny fissure in the wall, which began to glow blue. The Delta appeared, and the ceiling above them began to slide open.

"Stop right there!"

A chill went up Percy's spine. He recognized that voice.

Phoebe, leading a small group of Hunters, aimed her arrow straight at him. "Everyone surrenders unless you want to get shot."

There was a brief pause as both sides sized each other up. He noticed the string leading into the darkness where the Hunters had come from. They'd followed them into the Labyrinth. How could they not notice? At first, he thought Irene had led them down, but she looked just as surprised as he felt. Her plan was something else, if she was even plotting against him in the first place.

Suddenly, the ground erupted in between them, and skeleton warriors climbed to the surface. Phoebe fired her bow, but Percy already dove to the side.

"Let's go!" Thanas shouted. He was climbing the rungs of the ladder that had appeared on the side of the wall.

Percy glanced at the Hunters, who were ripping through the skeleton warriors like they were practice dummies. Thanas hadn't summoned enough to stop them.

Leon and Xanthe were beginning to climb up the ladder, but there wasn't enough time for him and Irene to get out.

He cursed and called out, "You three go first! We'll meet you in the taverna at the edge of the city."

Thanas paused to look down, looking like he was going to retort.

"Go!" Percy commanded.

Thanas looked pained, but he obeyed. He helped Xanthe and Leon get out, and the ceiling closed behind them.

Just as they did, Phoebe and the Hunters finished dispatching the skeleton warriors, bearing nothing but a few scratches.

He could sense Irene tense up next to him, her sword already drawn and readied.

Percy couldn't afford to harm any of them, otherwise Phoebe could easily convince Zoë and the rest of the Hunters that he was a dangerous threat and that hunting him was their priority above all else. But the ones who'd followed them down wouldn't go down without a fight. He trusted his own skills with the blade enough that he was confident he could take them all down without killing anyone. The problem was that Phoebe had chosen the battlefield. There was no water in the Labyrinth. They were ranged experts, making getting close enough to knock them out a serious challenge.

Aegis sprung to life as he tapped his bracelet.

"Ready?" he asked Irene.

The daughter of Aphrodite tightened her grip on her sword. "Ready."

Percy charged forward, holding his shield up to protect himself. The arrows flew from everywhere in front of them, slicing past his exposed limbs as he rushed forward. With Irene off to his right, the Hunters had two targets to shoot at. That would divert their attention and make it easier to duck and weave.

He slashed through the arrows, the world around him moving in slow motion. His senses worked on overdrive as he fought to stay alive.

The Hunters kept retreating, pulling back and firing at them to keep them at bay. Percy knew they were luring them into some sort of trap, but it wasn't like they could turn and run. They would become even easier targets to pick off. The Hunters glanced backward as they retreated, looking down toward the ground.

Irene ducked behind him as two more arrows were let fly. He raised his shield, and the arrows bounced harmlessly off the metal face.

Phoebe fired another arrow. This time, it was a screamer arrow. The high-pitched wail grew louder and sharper as it flew toward him. He clenched his jaw, gathering his nerve and blocked it with Aegis. His ears rang, and his head pounded with agony. He stepped back, taking Irene with him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "We need to keep advancing."

"It's not working," he told her. "They're retreating. They're not giving us an opportunity to push past them."

"It's not like we could push past them anyway," she countered.

Percy shook his head. "You see down there, where the torchlight ends?"

Irene glanced around him, down the tunnel, and nodded. The wall torches only continued for a short while. About fifty paces behind the last Hunter was the end of light. All they could see in that direction was darkness. The floor of the tunnel was the key.

"There's a patch of loose rock," he explained. The Hunters were taking a break, just like them, getting ready to fire once again. "If we got past them and knocked it loose, we could split up and escape. Clearly, they know about it. I've seen them glancing down. Their plan might be to hold just in front of it, lure us on top, knock the rock loose, and have the tunnel collapse in on itself. We'll be killed after falling into... whatever is below us."

"Can we even turn back?" Irene asked.

"I don't know, but I'm not eager to keep advancing."

Irene cursed, muttering in thought.

Phoebe shouted at them. "Are you afraid now? Bring on the fight!"

Suddenly, he felt Irene's warm breath along the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine. A feeling of dread came over him.

"Do you trust me?" Irene whispered.

Percy stared at the wall of Hunters in front of him. He didn't really have a choice. Slowly, he nodded, careful not to alert the Hunters of any potential plan up Irene's sleeve.

In a flash, she turned her blade on him and pressed its edge along his neck.

"Yield!" she shouted. "Drop your blade!"

Percy almost felt like whirling on her and demanding to know what she was doing. But she said to trust her. He reminded himself that he had no choice. He followed her orders, dropping Anaklusmos, knowing it would return to his belt, and deactivating Aegis.

"Give me Aegis," she whispered.

Reluctantly, he took the bracelet off and tossed it to the ground behind him. Irene bent down to pick it up, keeping her blade pressed to his neck. She stuffed the bracelet into her pouch and nudged him with the sword.

Percy clenched his teeth and began to walk forward. "You better have a good plan."

"It's not a good plan. But it's _a_ plan."

"That isn't comforting."

"I don't care what _comforts_ you. This might get you out of here alive."

They continued forward until Percy was less than an arm's length away from Phoebe. He could see the satisfied smirk on the Hunter's face, as if she was finally able to taste victory. Her very aura made him irritated. He resisted the urge to break her nose and snap her arms in half. Irene continued to hold her blade to his neck, pushing him past the Hunters until they were standing right on top of the loose rock.

"Perfect, Irene," Phoebe called out. "Stop there."

Irene kept her blade to his neck, but took a step back.

"See, isn't this nicer, Irene?" Phoebe sighed, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. "Percy is the sole reason we're in this mess. Now, I'm sure you haven't changed your mind about the Hunters, but self-preservation is always a sound strategy. And it's not unlike you to betray your allies to save yourself."

"You do what you have to do," Irene said.

Percy glanced over his shoulder and began to turn around, but Irene stopped him. "No one said you could turn around. Keep facing that way. There's nothing for you to see here."

He obeyed the command, though hearing the Hunters snicker and laugh made him angry. He couldn't help but wonder what plan Irene had in mind. He couldn't think of any logical plan that she could have conjured up. The wary part of his mind thought, _What if it's not logical at all?_

He glanced down at the rocks below him. _Could she possibly...?_

"End him," Phoebe commanded.

There was a blast of bright white light behind him followed by a violent explosion of sound, popping his ears. He whirled around to see Irene blink off her daze. She began to run forward, taking Aegis out of her pouch and throwing it at him. He snatched it out of the air and began to run away.

He realized what Irene's plan had been. She had a vial of blinding light, a gift from the goddess Hecate no doubt, that she used to stun the Hunters by smashing it to the ground. While they were distracted, the two of them would take off, destroy the loose rocks, and prevent the Hunters from following them.

"No!" Phoebe bellowed.

"Go!" Irene shouted, telling him to keep moving.

The two of them rushed forward, Percy in the lead. They were halfway across the rocks when Phoebe fired a stray arrow right at the center rock. Normally, an arrow would do nothing to a rock other than bounce right off, maybe make a scratch or something. But it must have been enchanted. It exploded as it hit its target, knocking everyone in the area off-balance, and triggering the collapse of the loose ground.

In desperation, Percy leaped toward the safe ground, where the stone pavement had been securely built. He landed and rolled forward, grunting as his shoulder slammed into the wall as he came out of his roll.

He turned around to see if Irene had made it.

"Go!" Her voice rang clearly through the wreckage. "Save yourself!"

Percy squinted through the darkness, past the dust and rubble, finally spotting Irene. His breath hitched in his throat, and, for a moment, his heart stopped.

She never made it to the safe zone. The rock she was holding onto was beginning to slip away. Below her was a void of never-ending darkness. She didn't look scared or angry as she slowly lost her grip. She just looked tired, like she wanted to go to sleep after a long day.

Across the chasm, the Hunters were regrouping, backing away from the edge.

Phoebe was staring at the wreckage like she couldn't believe what had just happened. Her eyes locked onto Irene, and her eyes widened like saucer plates.

"No, Irene!" she yelled.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Irene said, giving him one last smile. "I had to."

"Irene!" he shouted.

Before he could even move, the rock broke free, and both Irene and the rock fell away into the void below.

Percy felt grief and hatred swell in his chest.

_Get out of here, first_, the rational part of his mind said. _Survive!_

He ran.

For the first time in centuries, tears fell from Percy's eyes.

* * *

Thanas clutched his chest and fell to a knee.

Xanthe bolted upright from her seat, eyes wide in alarm. "What happened? Did they not make it?"

Leon held his breath as he waited for the answer. He didn't like the way the son of Hades was reacting.

"Irene..." Thanas stared at the ground in confusion, still holding his pose. "She's gone."

"What?"

"It doesn't feel like she's dead, exactly, but... she's just... gone."

Xanthe cursed and put her head in her hands.

"Her soul just... faded," the son of Hades continued. He looked more confused than anything else. "As if her soul has been stripped away."

"What about Percy?" Leon asked.

Thanas shook his head. "Nothing happened to Percy. At least, I didn't feel anything happened to him."

"Oh, gods." Xanthe turned as white as a phantom as she looked up. "Percy... how is Percy reacting to this?"

Leon winced. If Percy's past was anything to go by, he would wreak havoc on everyone around him the moment he got his chance. In fact, it would surprise him if Percy hadn't at least taken out a couple of Hunters by now.

"I can't tell..." Thanas mumbled. "It's like Ionna all over again."

The three of them sat in stunned silence, waiting at the taverna in Tarsus, right where Percy told them to wait. Leon wasn't even sure if Percy could navigate his way out. Unless Irene gave him Ariadne's string, it was near impossible to navigate the Labyrinth, but if anyone could do it, it was Percy.

"How long is it going to take him to get out?" Xanthe wondered.

Leon wished he had an answer. He took her hand and squeezed it to comfort her. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if he lost her in battle. It didn't matter how skilled Leon was in battle, how powerful he was with his powers. He could never handle the death of a loved one well. He was nowhere near as mature as Thanas. He managed to save both his mother and his friends from Marcus' clutches, and, even though his mother was in special treatment for insanity under Chiron's watch, at least she was alive. And, despite all that, he still felt depressed about what happened to her.

Now, with Irene's effective death, he just felt numb. If anything happened to Xanthe, he would probably just kill himself to end it all.

Thanas didn't answer either.

The three of them waited until the taverna closed. Percy still didn't show up. They had no choice but to head back to lodging.

Thanas was silent was he made his way to his room, shutting the door behind him, as if to keep them out. Leon and Xanthe sat down in the common room, lighting the candles and sitting next to each other on the seats.

She nestled her head on his shoulder, holding his hands with her own.

"We're too tired to do anything, but we're too restless to sleep," she mumbled.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Xanthe looked up at him. Her eyes were as dark as the deep ocean, swirling ominously and anxiously. Her recently cut hair felt different on his shoulder, but she was still as beautiful as ever.

"I don't want to lose you," she whispered. "If we die, I'd rather we died together."

"Same."

"How does Percy do it?" Her grip on him tightened. "How does he watch people die over and over and over and endure it? Especially people he loves."

"He hasn't endured it," Leon replied, remembering the old spheres. "It broke him."

He paused.

"Do you think, maybe, he was beginning to heal?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Remember what you told me about Phoebe and Irene? How they were fighting about all the terrible things Percy has done? Everything they brought up was from a long time ago. The worst thing he's done in the past few centuries is, what, egg the Romans and Greeks on? To help the Greeks fight the Romans?"

"I mean, drowning a whole legion is pretty bad."

"But necessary in war, right?" he pointed out. "You fight to kill the enemy. Not to injure. And how he was going about it was rational... logical. To kill an idea, you have to take out its roots. Destroy anything that holds that idea to its core and wipe it from existence. But, again, think about it. Did we ever hear that Percy hunted down the legion to destroy it? No, we heard that the legion hunted _him_ down and he destroyed it. What if he was cornered? What if he had no choice if he wanted to survive?"

Xanthe was still for a while. "You have a point. He was also a member of the Twelfth Legion."

"Wanting to kill the people that hurt the ones you love is normal in our society. I can't think of many people who wouldn't do that. Of course, we value human life. We want to save it. But if someone else takes something away from us over and over and over again, why wouldn't we fight back? Are we just supposed to let them take from us?"

"It's not a good reaction, though," Xanthe replied. Her expression darkened. "My brother changed his mind."

"You're right. It's not a good reaction. But rehabilitating him, helping him return back to a sensible human being, instead of shunning him and tossing him aside is what the gods should've been doing. Everything Irene told us about the way he was after the Trojan War, before he was exiled... none of it points to the monster he eventually turned into."

"So it's the fault of the Olympians?" Xanthe pulled away from him and looked at him incredulously. "You're blaming our parents?"

"Parents are supposed to help and support their children no matter what," he argued. "My mother, despite our differing beliefs, never stopped supporting me. She loved me with all she had, even when times were tough. You saw her after she went insane. Even when _lightning_ shot out from my fingers, she still took my side. To her, I'm supposed to be a demon from Hell. What about your mother, who sacrificed her life to protect you? She raised you and helped protect you for years. The gods? They just destroy each other and cast aside their children simply because they are mortal and they can die and they don't live forever."

"I..." She looked speechless. "I can't disagree..."

"Maybe I'm wrong," he admitted. "Maybe there's some flaw in my logic. But that's how I see it. How else can you explain why Percy is the way he is? Who started it all? It wasn't him. He was pushed to the brink, and I wonder if... if Irene's death is going to reset everything back to ground zero. If—"

"I'll turn into a rampaging murderer again?"

Leon looked up, startled at the voice. Percy stood at the door, his expression ghostly in the dim light.

He looked as normal as usual. All his clothes were intact. He didn't look injured in any major way. There was no limp, no abnormal posture, no outward expression of pain. There were a few cuts and bruises that weren't there before, but other than that, he was physically fine.

It was his eyes that were different.

They were full of pain and anger. They were full of resentment and hatred. He looked the same way he did after Mei's death, if not worse. He looked like he wanted nothing but to see the world burn.

"The Hunters are actively and directly working with the Amazons and Romans," he announced. "I ran into a scouting group on my way out of the Labyrinth. They were the ones supplying Phoebe with the necessary information. That's how the Hunters were so easily able to keep on our heels."

"What... what did you do with that group?" Xanthe asked, her voice wavering with hesitation.

A cold smirk appeared where his scowl had been just moments before. "What do you think?"

Thanas' door swung open slowly, revealing a messy-headed son of Hades. He was holding a candle, which cast a dark shadow across his face. He stared at Percy like he was seeing Nemesis' right-hand man. "You killed each and every single one of them."


	33. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"Percy...?"

It was just a dream, but she looked so real he immediately reached out to grab her arms.

"Woah!" Irene laughed, pulling back. "I didn't know you were so eager."

"You... you feel so real..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Everything in our body is regulated by our mind. Isn't that what you said? If that's true, then of course I feel real. Your mind wants me to feel real to you."

"I..." He could hardly speak without choking up. The guilt of what happened weighed on his shoulders like a brick house. "I'm so sorry."

She put a hand on his shoulder and patted him gently. "It's okay, Percy. You can't save everyone. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made."

Percy blinked through his dream tears. "Why can't it be me for once? Why can't I be the one that dies valiantly trying to save the ones I care about? Why do I have to survive and carry on?"

"You're too afraid to die, aren't you?" she asked. "I was too. To be honest, I don't know how I felt as I fell because I only know what you know, Percy. So maybe I can't say I'm afraid to die as well. But I probably was."

"I'm sorry, Irene."

"Don't be. I made my choice. I wanted to save you, no matter the cost."

"I never should have become immortal."

"Don't say that." Irene stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him in a warm embrace. "I had the opportunity to live a life because you became immortal. Without the Everlasting Hero, I would have died that day in Troy, choking to death in the fire after living a terrible, wasted life. I never would have had the chance to be human, even if it took me down a treacherous road."

"Wasted life? You were a Trojan princess."

"Princess, perhaps. But I was, first and foremost, a woman. And the desire to keep the royal blood within the family continued onward. I was not treated well, especially with Aeneas antagonizing Priam the way he did." She sighed. "The Trio... Xanthe and Leon know more about this. They can tell you if you ask nicely."

"Xanthe and Leon...?" Percy blinked. "But you're a figment of my imagination. How would you know something I don't?"

"I may be a figment of your imagination, but that doesn't mean I'm not altered by Morpheus," Irene pointed out with a smirk. "The Irene you knew is gone. She exists solely in your memories... and in the memories of the lives she touched. That's who I am, Percy. A combination of the prints Irene left behind in this world."

"Morpheus?" Percy tried grabbing Irene, but this time she was transparent. "No! No, Irene! Irene!"

"Where do you think that void led to, Percy?" she asked, her voice getting hollower by the second. "To where do you think I fell?"

"Tar... Tartarus."

"No mortal ever returns from Tartarus. Some Titans don't even return. Irene is gone, Percy. And it's your fault."

"It's not my fault!" Percy's anger returned. He lashed out at the ghostly image of Irene in front of him, and she dissipated like water vapour. "Morpheus! Come back here, swine! You're just a lackey of the Olympians. If this is your way to try to get me to give up and stop, I'm having none of it! I will destroy _everything_ because of you. You took everything from me. I'll go to the depths of Tartarus if I have to! I'll find and rescue Irene and bring Kronos back to raze Olympus to the ground!"

The floor disappeared from underneath his feet and he fell into the darkness below.

...

The darkness shifted into another scene...

...

He was in his old home in Athens, watching himself beg on his knees. Irene was lying on the ground in the main area, severely injured.

"Please!" Other Percy begged.

Asclepius shook his head. He glanced at the sky, then at the ground. "I used to give out the Physician's Cure like candy, Percy. Zeus killed me because of it. I... I can't help you. I'm sorry."

Irene lay on the cot, dry blood staining her youthful face.

The son of Apollo closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. "Percy, I've seen many people die. And you have too. It's... it's what makes humans so different from the gods. Us immortals... we can never die. We live forever, never forgetting the past. In truth, it just makes us arrogant. It makes us proud and believe that we are better than we truly are. But a human has the potential to grow beyond that. Life should be cherished because you can only live it once... at least, with the same memory."

"I... I've lived for too long," Other Percy said, his voice cracking. "I shouldn't have survived. Irene... Irene can't die before me. I... I owe it to her."

With a start, he realized he was watching something that never happened. No, rather, he was watching a possibility, something that could have happened. He saw a sculpture in the background. It was a statue of the Trio, all grown up with families, posing for a sculpter. All kinds of Eastern Roman artwork decorated the home, some of which he couldn't even identify.

Asclepius pressed his lips together tightly. He walked over to a box and produced a drink. Nectar. The doctor offered it to him. "Drink this. You look tired."

Other Percy took the nectar and began to drink. Percy could feel exactly what Other Percy was feeling. And he hated it. Nectar didn't taste like it was supposed to. Nectar used to always remind him of home, of his mother. But now, it tasted like sand. Grainy, dry and tasteless. He could feel Other Percy's body rejecting the nectar, refusing to let it heal his wounds.

"You should go," Other Percy told the healer. Other Percy looked up at Asclepius, who was staring at Irene's body. The god's gaze was sad and conflicted.

"Cherish these days, Percy." The son of Apollo turned to him, his eyes brimming with tears. "Don't snap. Live life."

Life?

No.

Death.

The world shimmered, and he saw himself reappear in the kitchen.

"Hey, Irene," Other Percy said as he prepared a meal. "You healing up okay?"

Silence.

Other Percy winced as the flames licked at his hands. "Ow! Why don't these flames like me? Do you think they hold a grudge because I bad mouthed Hephaestus?"

Irene didn't say anything. She was still lying almost motionless on the ground.

He cooked the meat slowly, ensuring that everything was properly done. He'd done this many times before, but he knew Irene was picky with her meals. She'd never let him cook ever since they started working together.

"I wasn't wrong, was I?" Other Percy laughed. "I gave up on revenge for you. Remember?"

Other Percy glanced at his reflection in Anaklusmos' blade. He usually kept himself clean-shaven, but it looked like he had no time to groom himself. Stubble grew haphazardly around his face, making him look like he'd aged ten years.

"You used to tell me I looked like an adult sometimes. When my facial hair was well-groomed, you always told me how similar I looked to Poseidon. I'm not sure whether I should be happy or sad when you say that. Like, sure, my dad's cool and all, but I'm totally better looking. Right?"

_Not a chance_, Irene's phantom voice whispered.

"You're a good liar." Other Percy smiled. The food was cooked. "Hey, the food is done. Ready to eat?"

Other Percy finished preparing their dishes. He walked over to her and set their tupperware down.

"Time to eat."

Other Percy ate slowly, watching her with a sad smile. Her features glowed in the light of the fire. Her lips were slightly parted, scarred from whatever terrible injury she'd suffered. Her chest rose and fell lightly.

"You should eat a little, too."

Other Percy turned away from her.

"You should try some of this food. I... I made it really well, you know."

Irene's unconscious body didn't move.

"When you wake up, I'll definitely have some food waiting for you. Don't worry."

He reached over and grabbed a pitcher of water. Gently, he poured the water into her mouth and down her throat.

"Please, Irene. Wake up soon."

...

Night turned to day...

...

_Clip, clop, clip, clop._

Other Percy looked up. "Is someone there?"

"Percy..."

Chiron appeared in the doorway, giving his old tutee a sad smile.

"Chiron!" Other Percy smiled and walked over. He embraced his old teacher. "What are you doing here?"

The centaur's tail swooshed nervously. "Ah, well, I was hoping we could have a chat. I've heard that... you've been caught in a difficult fight."

Percy nodded.

The centaur pursed his lips. For a moment, there was complete silence. Dread and sorrow were pushing up through Other Percy's throat, but he shoved those emotions away. He had to believe that Irene was going to be okay. He had to believe that she would survive.

"Shall I try some magic?" Chiron suggested, gesturing to Irene's body. "Perhaps... she'll heal faster."

Other Percy nodded. "Sure. Go ahead."

He watched as the centaur pulled a variety of herbs and plants from his pack. He mixed them together in a stone bowl and muttered incantations, infusing them with magic. The sweet aroma of honey filled the air, and somehow Percy felt his chest expand. A breath of fresh air filled his body and he felt rejuvenated.

Chiron began to apply it to Irene.

"Remember our conversation after the Trojan War?" Other Percy asked suddenly. The thought suddenly came to mind.

"I remember a lot of things, Percy."

He smiled and stared at Chiron's eyes. The centaur concentrated hard on healing Irene, but his ears were perked up and ready to listen.

"Remember how innocent I was back then, believing that everything would work out? You told me that loss is just something we must deal with. But, at the same time, we must stay positive through tough times. Even in the most horrible of times, Elpis rests with humanity. That one may find comfort and love if they remember to believe."

"Belief is important," Chiron nodded. "Belief leads to thoughts. Thoughts lead to actions. Actions lead to habits. And habits lead to your character. After all, your character determines your destiny."

Other Percy stared at Irene's cold, pale body. His chest tightened in pain. "How long does it take for someone to crack?"

Chiron paused and looked up.

Other Percy couldn't stop his voice from shaking as he spoke. "When Apollo and Ares conspired against me, I was angry. But it was rational. I was blamed and shunned for something ridiculous and out of my control. I was exiled, and I fled to the east. I saw horrors that would make anyone go insane. But I held it together. I came back, exacted my revenge, and once Irene convinced me of the horrors of what I'd done, I stopped immediately."

"Percy..." Chiron said softly. "You are brave and—"

"But what happened after?" Other Percy continued, interrupting his old teacher. "I tried to hide. I tried to live a normal life. After Irene convinced me to stop, I felt like everything was on its right course. But then the problems started again. It seems like the whole world is against me sometimes, Chiron. Like the Fates want me to suffer. Like the gods want to see me fall. Even Artemis and Athena, who once protected me from Zeus' rage, turned their backs on me."

The centaur was at a loss for words. He looked down, his gaze sorrowful.

"Tell me Irene will survive. Because I don't know what I'll do if she's gone. When I began, I had you and Jason. Then I had Atalanta and Theseus and Periclymenus. After, I had you and Achilles. For a while, I was lost. I grasped onto the thinnest straws, believing revenge was the right path forward. But I couldn't. It was too painful. Irene... Irene saved me. She can't possibly..." His voice cracked. "She can't die. I can't let her die. Because it would be my fault."

Chiron stopped applying the medicine. He sat back and shook his head. "Percy, those are dangerous thoughts. Do not believe you can control the Fates. Please, Percy."

"Why not?" Other Percy clenched his fists. "Why can't I be left alone for once?"

"Percy..." Chiron sighed. "It may be time to let go..."

"Nothing has happened yet!" Other Percy snapped.

A cold feeling settled in his veins. He looked at Irene.

So did Chiron.

"My boy..."

"Nothing will happen!" Other Percy shouted, glaring at Chiron and silencing his old master.

...

The dream shifted scenes again...

...

Other Percy went to grab water from the kitchen.

Zoë stared at Irene's body quietly without judgment or analysis. Just blankly, full of regret and sorrow.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

Zoë watched him sadly. "Percy..."

"She'll be fine," he insisted, knowing what she was thinking.

They fell into silence.

Other Percy continued to tend to Irene as she lay there. Her heart still pounded. Her breath was still warm. She was clinging to life. It was only a matter of time before she recovered. He had to have faith. Giving up would only lead to pain and desolation.

"Do you really care for her?"

Other Percy looked up. Zoë stared at him, her eyes dark and unreadable.

He grabbed Irene's cold hand and nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Why?"

He frowned. "What do you mean 'why?'"

"Why do you care for her?" She looked down. "Why did you stop your revenge for her?"

Other Percy looked lost in thought. Percy could understand. He thought back to their early days. Sure, she had been annoying at first. Her sword and his blade had clashed many times. But when it came down to it, she stuck by his side and helped him recover from his humiliation and desperation. When the world seemed to turn on him, she was there by his side.

"In all honesty, there isn't one concrete reason," Other Percy sighed. "I think... just after what I went through, I wanted some stability and peace. Irene brought that. It's funny how it all works out. We're both immortal warriors... fighters. Our lives were contingent on the fact that we fought for a living. We were servants of the gods. In the end, being human is what really saved us. She showed me that you can love life, love people."

Zoë watched him with an indiscernible expression. "Right."

"You have your family, too, right?" He gave her a smile. "The Hunters."

She nodded. "Yes. I do."

"I guess... our path ends here."

Zoë furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Other Percy took Anaklusmos from his hair and handed it over to her. "I think... I no longer deserve to wield your sword."

"I..." She looked at the hair pin and closed it in her fist. "I suppose you are right."

"Anaklusmos was the sword that really started it all," he said. "After Heracles gave it to me, I had those dreams about you. Dreams about how I had to save you. It was a symbol of our partnership and friendship. But... I used it to kill. I used it to do unspeakable things. And, in the process, I tore us apart. I tried to give up fighting, but I couldn't bear to throw Anaklusmos away. In the end, I just used you. As an excuse."

Zoë shot him a pained expression. "That's... partially my fault as well. I never intended to harm you. I never intended to... to treat your life and happiness the way I did."

"I guess we're both forgiven," he chuckled.

She eyed his hand, and he realized he was still holding onto Irene's hand tightly.

"Will you be okay?" she asked.

Other Percy looked at Irene. "I'm sure I will."

Zoë pursed her lips. "I just don't want you to return to the horrible self you became after your exile. If there's one thing I can thank Irene for, it's that she's turned you back into a good person. Just like you used to be."

Other Percy took a sip of his water. He tried to ignore the growing pain in his chest.

Zoë pursed her lips, recognizing his discomfort. She stood up. "Perhaps I should be going."

He took a deep breath and stood up. "If that is what you wish..."

She put a hand on his shoulder and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Promise me you'll be okay?"

Other Percy forced a grin. "Of course. I'll be great!"

Doubt flickered in her eyes, but she nodded and moved toward the exit. As she reached the door, she stopped and turned around.

"Percy... can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Remember that day when I tried to convince you that Irene was going to do something stupid if you continued your revenge?"

Percy saw his other self nod, still feigning that smile.

"She was going to sacrifice her life to save you."

"I know."

"And you believed me."

"Yeah, I did."

"Thank you." Zoë gave him a small smile. "Thank you for believing me that day and not letting her do something stupid like that."

"You're welcome."

"But... maybe she was fated to die, Percy. As long as she chose to stand next to you, maybe her fate was to die."

His other self's smile died.

"I'm sorry," Zoë apologized. She looked down, tears in her eyes. "Irene was... _is_ a good friend of mine too. I shouldn't say that... I'll be going now."

Other Percy waved after her retreating figure.

"Irene. Wave goodbye to Zoë."

Irene's still body didn't move.

...

Another scene shift...

...

Other Percy stepped back into the house. He dropped off the food in the kitchen and went to visit Irene.

"I'm back."

His voice echoed in the empty room.

Kneeling by her side, he touched her forehead. It was cold.

"Irene...?"

He rolled the blanket off her body. She looked discoloured... unnatural. The bottom half of her arms looked slightly darker than the upper half. Percy tried lifting her arm, expecting it to flop around limply. But her arm was stiff, as if her muscles were resisting.

Percy knew better than to think she had recovered. He'd seen this too many times before.

With gentle fingers, Other Percy checked for some sign of life. Breaths from her mouth and nose. The beating of the heart within her chest. Circulation of some sort.

Nothing.

Other Percy's hand settled to the floor slowly. Pain? Sorrow? Numbness? He wasn't sure what he was feeling. It was as if nothing mattered anymore. His mind was blank, his expression was calm and unmoving.

Death was something he had flirted with for centuries.

Over the years, he'd come to accept death. It was natural, after all. For any mortal, once life had been completed, death followed. Calm and inevitable. As if going to sleep forever. He'd journeyed to the Underworld several times. Spoke with the spirits of many of the heroes he'd helped and trained. They all seemed at peace in some way.

Death was kinder than life.

Percy knew that for certain. So did Other Percy. But why did people want to live? Because it was exciting.

If death was calm and serene, life was wild and unpredictable.

Life.

What did life mean?

Percy used to question that. After slaughtering countless Romans, he'd questioned if he even had the right to be a hero. Not to mention an immortal one. He'd given up any hope of glory to become an immortal hero that helped the gods. And, in return, his life was made a mockery. Everything he touched seemed to disintegrate and die.

But regardless of the unknown, of the uncertainty of the emotions bubbling within him, there was one solid truth he knew. The only certainty of the world around him lay right in front of his eyes. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, whether he wanted to believe it was all just a dream. Neither of those changed the reality.

Irene was gone.

* * *

_A Long Time Ago BCE  
Trojan War - 9th Year  
Troy_

"Here you go, Princess Cassandra," Percy said. He set a platter full of food down in front of her. "Hopefully it's not too much."

"Thank you," she replied with a smile. She looked at the platter. "I suppose we could share. If you want some of the food..."

"I'll eat your leftovers," he told her.

Cassandra nodded and began to enjoy the food.

Percy fell back onto his bed, spreading his arms out like an angel. He yawned, finishing with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" Cassandra asked in between bites of food.

He rolled over so that he could see her without sitting up. "Who said there's something wrong?" he asked.

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. "I think I've seen enough of you during the past nine years to understand how you feel. You don't sigh like that when everything is fine. You seem troubled." Her expression softened. "Tell me what's wrong. I may be able to help you fix your problems."

Percy considered for a moment. Then he sighed again. "Fine. Agamemnon wants either you or Brisēís as compensation for the loss of Chryseis, his little captive he was forced to give back."

She pursed her lips and stopped eating for a moment.

He nodded and rolled back onto his backside. It wasn't like he was expecting her to suddenly come up with an amazing piece of advice to help him address the situation.

"Why?" Cassandra asked suddenly. "Why would Agamemnon demand such a thing? Are we property to be traded back and forth between men?"

"Most men think so," Percy said flatly. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I don't believe in that, but you'd be hard pressed to find many Achaeans who think the same way I do. Of course, I _am_ treating you like property. I restrict where you can go and what you can do. But I try to constrict you in a way that I'm keeping you safe. I try not to infringe on your freedoms too much."

"We women of Troy are strong," she told me. "Me, Brisēís, Andromache, Irene. All of us."

"I don't doubt that," Percy chuckled.

"If only Diana were more respected by the Achaeans..." Cassandra mused.

"Diana?" Percy turned to face her.

"Some Trojans call her by that name instead of Artemis," she explained. "Sometimes I've heard others call a couple of the gods Veneris and Mavros, though I'm not sure which ones they are talking about."

Percy's vision tunneled. _A threat stirs. They're changing! A new threat will arise! Beware the one called Veneris and the one called Mavors! Do not show mercy! Kill all of the Anatolians!_

"Percy! Are you okay?"

He blinked, and Cassandra came into view. She had moved forward from her position and was reaching out to him with an outstretched hand. She rested her palm on his cheek and brushed it lightly with her thumb.

"You just went as white as the marble columns in Athens," she said with a concerned expression on her face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm fine..." he lied.

She clearly didn't believe it, but let it pass. The Trojan princess shuffled over to his bed and laid down next to him, stretching her arms out like he had earlier. Her slender arm rested on his chest.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You're not going to die, you know," Cassandra said softly. "You're not the one that's going to die in the prophecy." She paused and sighed. "I've always wondered what would have happened if Apollo had raped me that night instead of cursing me. Would I have a child?"

"Likely," Percy replied. He craned his head to look at her. "Who is going to die, then?"

She blinked a few times, as if she was processing his words. Then she sat up and stared at him with big blue eyes. "You... You believe me?"

"Well... yeah." He shrugged his shoulders. "Why?"

"Only Brisēís has ever believed my predictions," she marveled. "The only way someone can believe what I prophesize is if they look at me as more than just an individual. They have to really, really..." She looked down, pink tinting her cheeks.

"You okay?" He grinned at her embarrassment.

"I'm fine," she lied, using the exact same tone he had just a few moments ago.

He laughed at her.

At first, she sulked, but the girl had changed a lot since the time they first met. Soon, she was also laughing at herself. The two of them filled the tent with jovial laughter that probably could be heard all over the Myrmidon camp.

Once they calmed down, Cassandra took a deep breath and explained what she meant, "You're not going to die in his war, Percy. Whatever your fears are... don't worry. You will survive. You will always survive, even when it seems like your end has come. I can't promise that it will always bring you happiness. But you get another chance, even if you've fallen down."

He watched her eyes carefully.

"You joined this war because you want to kill Helen, right? To punish her for betraying Achaea and her honor?"

"That's... my main intention, I suppose..."

"Well, you know that it's going to lead to the demise of Troy. Paris, so long as he lives, will do anything in his power to protect her. And Priam will do everything in _his_ power to fight to the last Trojan, as revenge for Achaeans taking his sister and not giving her back. To kill Helen, you will need to destroy Troy."

Percy pressed his lips together in a tight line. "There isn't just one way to do things, Cassandra. I've been thinking... if I can infiltrate Troy..."

"You would never be able to," Cassandra said, shaking her head. "Troy's walls are impenetrable for a reason."

"I..."

"Even at this point, you have seen enough of Hector to respect him," Cassandra told him. "You've had your doubts about the war. All this killing and slaughter? For what? One woman?"

Percy looked down. He didn't have anything to say. She was right.

"You want to destroy everything yet you don't want to destroy everything. Even aloud it sounds confusing and contradictory. Let me ask you this, then. If it came down to my life, or Zoë's life, would you sacrifice the world to save us?"

He couldn't meet her eyes. Would he? Could he?

"The Percy that I've come to appreciate would do anything to accomplish his goals. From my perspective, I find it admirable. But that's because your goals, while I have known you, have not been cruel or destructive. You want Helen to give up yet you hesitate when it comes to destroying Troy. You want to protect the women captured by the Myrmidons in battle as best as you can from the main Achaean army. You want me to live as best as I can in these difficult circumstances. And you have done your best to try and accomplish these."

He nodded silently.

She bit her lip. "But I'm a little afraid of a Percy whose goal is to destroy the enemy. I'm afraid that you'll tear everything down to get what you want."

"I... don't know..." he mumbled.

"If you ever get those thoughts... I'm afraid that it would take a miracle to get you to stop."

"Then... I'll try and think of someone I love."

"What do you mean?"

"In times of crisis, when I feel like I'm being torn apart, when the world around me is collapsing, I'll think of someone I love. For them, I'll stop. For them, I'll get rid of whatever grudge I have."

"Will you?"

"I will."

* * *

**Just so y'all know, I released a new story called _Surgo_, about a Roman Percy. If that sounds remotely interesting, check out the first chapter and see if it's something that may be worth continuing. Anyway, hope you all are having a good July so far, and be safe!**

**Sharky**


	34. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

_I don't know if you'll ever read this, Percy. I'm just hoping that you're out there, alive and well. Zoë went out to follow you. I don't know if you knew or not. Sometimes, I wish I left with her. I miss you. I'm sure she feels the same, looking for you somewhere out there, lost in the land beyond the gods. I miss both of you, actually. The two of you taught me a lot. I'm angry that the gods threw you aside like that. I wish I could afford to be mad at them; that would be infinitely better than the empty, desolate hole in my heart right now._

_If you happen to read this that means two things: you've survived and I've finally met you again. I don't know how long I will have known you were back for. I don't know what you'll be like when you return. But I do know that, whatever you're like, I want you to read this. Someone I trust will deliver this message to you when the time is right. And, regardless of whatever happened to you while you're gone, I'll always stay by your side, even when it feels like I'm betraying you._

_This might sound awfully close to a love letter. It isn't. At least, that's not what I'm thinking as I write this. Maybe, in my last moments, I'll think of you that way. For now, it isn't. But you _are _my hero. You're the first person to treat me like an equal, a proper human. You taught me a lot of what I know and made life seem worth living. You inspired me to make change. I'll do anything I can to help you, and save you._

_I don't expect you to do anything in return. The only thing I ask of you is to be human, with faults and everything._

_Sincerely, your pupil and friend,_

_Irene_

* * *

An angry Percy was ruthless.

Thanas had seen this before. Back in Athens, when the Hunter had shown them his reaction to Mei's rape and murder, he saw how terrifying Percy could be when he lost those he loved.

He'd become more protective, not allowing them to fight at his side, forcing them to act as reserve troops. He would destroy enemy lines and force them to retreat. He caused chaos and pandemonium no matter where he went. Romans caught in his rampage stood little chance.

It didn't mean he couldn't be stopped.

His reckless rampage exposed him several times. Only their intervention—him, Xanthe and Leon—spared him. He was nearly killed when he was surrounded by a line of Romans in a battle. His power, a storm that took life after life after life was both incredibly fascinating and incredibly terrifying. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Legions had suffered so much from the fight that the majority of them had fled down the coast, re-basing close to Tyre.

This time, however, he could see what Percy did when the fighting was over.

At the end of each day, if they weren't being chased or hunted, he would help them set up camp when they were outside of a town or village. But he didn't cook anymore. He didn't do any housework or chores like he'd done after Ionna had passed away. Instead, he would sit in his room doing one of two things—crying or cursing Apollo in fury.

It was a sign that Percy hadn't fully recovered from what happened to him the land beyond the gods. But it was also a sign that Percy had started to recover. He heard Leon and Xanthe talk about it briefly before Percy returned to their lodge.

There was no doubt in his mind that Irene had planned for this to happen. She must have tipped Phoebe off about where they were headed. She wanted to die because she thought it would save Percy.

Thanas couldn't understand the logic behind it. He had become much less cold, much less distant than when they first met him, and she had been a big part of it.

When he first started training them, it had always been about destroying the Romans, eliminating the threat, and preparing for war. The focus had been the Romans. But, as time passed, the focus changed. It was about preserving the Greeks through a process of preclusive imperialism. It was about building a foundation for Greek demigods to survive and prosper. In the process of doing so, the Romans that occupied their lands would need to be eliminated. It was a subtle difference, but a difference nonetheless.

He remembered a conversation he'd had with Percy not too long after they'd begun their re-conquest two years ago. Even back then he'd been afraid of losing Irene, afraid of losing the three of them.

Now, one of his greatest fears had come to fruition.

It was both noteworthy and telling that, despite being able to find moments of peace and joy in Thanas' own memories of Percy, the memories that first came to mind when he thought of the immortal demigod were those of his most violent acts.

Like the time that Percy had led a bunch of young kids in a less-violent version of _harpastum_ in Ankyra. Laughing and running along with them, he'd been nothing but accommodating. Even though they weren't Greek demigods, he'd made sure no one got seriously injured and had even reprimanded a kid who _did_ get too violent.

Or that time when he went to teach a class of demigods in Constantinople about the history of monsters gave out treats to those who answered the questions right. It felt like a party.

But they were just footnotes in the grand scheme of things. No one would remember them. All they would remember was how destructive he was. All they would remember was the Percy that was an unapologetic murderer. All they would remember was the threat he posed to Greek and Roman demigods alike.

"I'm sorry..."

Thanas felt tears on his cheeks.

It was pitch black in the lodge. All the candles had been blown out before they went to sleep. Xanthe and Leon were fast asleep in their respective rooms, resting after a tiring day out on the battlefield. Percy was in his room, quietly weeping and bemoaning his own actions.

It was pitch black in the lodge, but Thanas felt like he could see everything as he stood silently outside of Percy's room.

"I'm sorry, Irene..." Percy said hoarsely from inside. "It's my fault..."

Thanas remembered how he'd acted after Ionna's death. It was painful to even think of her, but the war effort and the presence of Xanthe and Leon had soothed him. Standing in front of that room of Greek demigods, telling them that it was their time to rise and protect themselves, had been his way out. He would do everything in his power to honor Ionna's sacrifice. But he could only do that because of all the people who had supported him. He may have lost the love of his life, but he still had his family.

Percy lost Irene. Percy lost Zoë. All he had left were the three of them.

Many old Greek heroes suffered tragic endings. Heracles was effectively burned to death as the centaur blood blistered and boiled his skin. Jason died alone, without family or friends, underneath the rotting hull of the Argo. Achilles died as a result of his hubris and arrogance, by the hand of a god. Bellerophon was thrown off Pegasus' back as he dared to fly up to Olympus.

Percy's was different. Thanas wanted to change it, give Percy the happy ending he needed after living a life of pain and suffering.

But he couldn't but feel like this Perseus wouldn't live up to his namesake. His choices and his decisions had led him down a path from which he could never recover.

It broke Thanas' heart.

The end was near.

* * *

Zoë knew what happened the moment Phoebe set foot in the camp.

The Hunters looked fine physically, but she could tell from their expressions that something was wrong. It coincided with reports she expected to receive from the Amazons, or rather, a lack thereof. Things had not gone according to the Amazons' plan, and she immediately assumed Irene had begun her foolish plan.

The Hunters that had stayed behind with her rushed to help Phoebe's unit.

Phoebe and Helene stepped up to give their report.

"Irene..." Phoebe looked shocked, like she was having a hard time believing what she'd witnessed. "Irene is gone. Percy betrayed her."

Zoë saw Helene's face twitch ever so slightly.

"He nearly killed us all," Phoebe continued, keeping her head down. Her stunned expression didn't seem fabricated, but her words were synthetic. "He turned on Irene to save himself. I don't know if Irene told him, but he knew that the Amazons were feeding us information and that the Romans were spying on the Amazons. We barely managed to escape the Labyrinth."

"How did you escape?" Zoë asked.

Helene produced a ball of yarn from her pack. Zoë's eyes widened. It was Ariadne's string. As far as she knew, it had been in the possession of Daedalus before he died in the Labyrinth.

"Irene dropped it for us," Helene said shakily.

_Dropped it?_

Zoë glanced at Phoebe, whose expression had tightened. If Irene truly had Ariadne's string, and she was leading Percy to the specific destination he'd planned out, she never would have dropped the string before they reached their target. She tried to shake herself out of her thoughts. She had time to think about what _actually _happened later. For now, she had to absorb their story and pretend like it was true.

"So Percy has gone rogue?" Zoë asked.

Phoebe nodded. She glanced at Helene and said, "On our way back, we managed to find out how he got out. He didn't take the same exit as the Trio. He let them flee first. He found another exit, purely by luck. One of the Amazons that escaped the battle said he stumbled out like he'd been running. He didn't attack them at first, but when they raised their weapons, he slaughtered them."

Zoë cursed mentally. Had Irene's plan worked in the exact opposite way she hoped?

"We'll need to take our next steps carefully," Zoë muttered. "We can't fight him alone. He'll kill us all."

"But we have to keep hunting him," Phoebe continued. "We need to separate him from the Trio for us to have a chance."

"What do you propose?"

"We fight alongside the Romans and Amazons." Phoebe looked and sounded more confident as she outlined her plan. Unlike the blatant lie she just told, this was merely a suggestion, a proposal for a strategy. "We'll let him advance down to Tyre, but we will ambush him somewhere between Tyre and Tarsus. The Amazons and Romans will use their cavalry to harass them along the way. They'll suffer casualties, but better than allowing Percy to advance uncontested."

"It's not ideal, but we think that injuring one of the Trio will force them to back off and split up," Helene added. "It's highly unlikely that Percy will stay with them knowing that we're on his trail. He needs them to destroy the Thirteenth and Fourteenth legions, unless he decides to drown the entire coastline."

"I wouldn't put it past him to do that again," Phoebe interjected.

Zoë stared at the two. "Do you believe he cares about the Trio?"

They gave her a look of surprise.

_Anerríphtho kývos_. Zoë had cast her die, played her cards. She'd committed herself to Irene's plan and she couldn't afford to half-ass it.

Pushing her feelings aside, she scoffed, "If he's willing to betray Irene, he'll betray anyone to get what he wants. He wants you to believe that he cares about them. To you, they're an easier target. They're younger, less experienced. You'll attack them in hopes that he will give up in exchange for their lives, but he'll just do what he did to Irene and sacrifice them in order to win. Do you disagree, Phoebe?"

Phoebe blinked, stunned. "Um... well, no. I agree."

_If we make him believe it's his fault that everyone he cares about is taken away from him... He'll realize that the misery he's faced was his own doing... If we die by our own actions, helping his cause_.

Zoë had to take control. To complete Irene's plan, no one else could influence her.

_Fine, Percy_, she thought. _You wanted me to show off my status as Artemis' lieutenant? Then I will. Starting now_.

Zoë knew, from Irene, that he had softened over the past few years. There was little doubt in her mind that Percy would rather keep the Trio alive than sacrifice them. But she also knew that the best way to hurt Percy was for the Trio to make the decision themselves. Irene believed that they would recognize what needed to be done once she was gone.

The Trio had to make the final call to destroy themselves and the legions.

She needed to nudge them in that direction. Suddenly, Helene's idea didn't seem so farfetched. Zoë felt crazy, betting on Irene's hunch that Percy cared enough about the Trio's lives, but it was too late. Irene had already played her last, desperate hand. Zoë didn't have time to survey the battlefield and come up with a more sound strategy.

_The girl... the daughter of Poseidon..._

The strategy began to take shape in her mind.

"We'll take the fight to Percy, then," she told Phoebe and Helene. "Gather the Hunters. I've got a plan."

* * *

They were harassed by Amazons and Roman scouts all along the coastline. He could see what they were trying to do, always attacking from the sea. They wanted to drive them inland, away from his source of power—the sea.

Fortunately, they managed to fend the Amazons off while they tracked down the location of the Roman camp near Tyre, but the sheer number of enemies meant that restocking supplies was nearly impossible. They were low on food and were tired from the constant travel.

Unfortunately, they hadn't been attacked in two days.

He knew something was wrong. The Hunters must have been behind it all. He wondered if Zoë had finally given in and believed Phoebe.

"It's too peaceful," Thanas muttered, looking around at the dense thicket on either side of the road. "There's probably an ambush waiting for us."

The four of them weren't in their best condition. An ambush wouldn't be as kind to them as it would be if they were rested and fed.

_I just pray it's not the Romans_, Percy thought.

He tried to imagine what Zoë would do. Then he tried to imagine what the Romans would do. It didn't make much sense for the Romans to follow Zoë's orders. She'd admitted that she couldn't control anyone but her Hunters. So if they were cooperating, it had to be some sort of compromise.

Plus, he knew roughly where the Romans were located. Not all of the Romans were down by Tyre, with various scouts keeping track of their location. But it wasn't clear to him where the ambush was meant to take place.

Just then, there was the sound of trotting horses and marching footmen behind them. Percy turned to see a caravan flanked by at least half a dozen armed guards catching up to them. It was probably the fifth caravan that had passed them, the second that was travelling in the same direction as them.

He motioned for the Trio to stop and waved at the caravan.

The armed guards approached him first.

"Hello, sirs," Percy said, acting out of breath and tired, which wasn't hard to do. "We've lost our party after a little skirmish with bandits. Supposed to head to Tyre. Would you, by any chance, be headed there?"

"You want a ride, is that it?" one of the guards asked.

Percy glanced back at the Trio, who were all watching intently. Despite the dark circles underneath their eyes, they looked alert and ready for a fight.

He turned back to the guards. "Well... yes."

"Can your boys fight?"

"Of course."

The guards deliberated amongst each other for a moment.

"We are undermanned," one said. "We could use a few extra swords."

"How do you know that they're not bandits themselves?"

"Look at them. They're all tired. Plus, we have room in the wagon for the girl."

"They're trying to keep us off-guard."

"Nah, they're harmless. C'mon, do you think bandits would walk out in the open like this? Remember the Imperial soldiers that passed us back a few miles?"

Percy reached into his Infinity Pouch and produced a pouch full of gold coins. "I can pay if needed." He showed them the contents of the pouch.

The guards' looked at each other and then at the gold.

"Well?"

The head guard snatched the pouch from his hands. "Welcome to the party."

Percy positioned himself at the back of the group, sweeping up after the caravan. The Trio were positioned at all the other flanks. Xanthe led the caravan with the head guard, and Leon and Thanas took the sides. While they were now mixed in with the merchants and caravan guards, they couldn't be too careful.

After maybe an hour of riding, the first signs of trouble appeared.

Leon's hand suddenly shot straight up, and he held a fist high above his head. Percy adjusted his angles and saw Xanthe was doing the same at the front. It was a warning sign. His half-sister had spotted something suspicious up ahead.

Percy brought a hand to his belt where Anaklusmos stowed. But nothing happened.

Scouts, he assumed.

Another hour passed by uneventfully, but as they reached a dense part of the forest, his senses tingled. The trees in Syria were nowhere near as tall or as thick as the trees up in Gaul or Germania, but it didn't mean all the terrain was low-lying shrubbery.

This was the perfect place for an ambush.

"ARGH!"

A wave of javelins rose out of the trees and rained down on the caravan without warning.

"Xanthe!" Leon shouted.

A battle cry rose out of the woods as another wave of javelins came. The caravan guards were the first ones to be picked off. Frightened by the sudden chaos, the horses pulling the cart whinnied and tried to flee. One of the merchants was tossed off the cart like a doll and hit the ground head first.

Percy's first instinct was to rendezvous with the Trio, but a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Percy, stop!" Zoë shouted.

Percy ground his teeth together in irritation. Their cover was blown.

"Scatter!" he ordered the Trio.

The Romans launched their pila.

Zoë was leading the charge. Whatever lie Phoebe had told her, it must have been convincing. She looked even colder than she had when she told him they were officially enemies on the battlefield, when he'd rejected her plea to stop.

More Romans burst out of the trees. It was even worse than Percy initially thought. Dozens of Romans poured out of the forest and began their assault.

Thanas immediately raised a wall of rock and summoned a host of undead soldiers. They took position behind the rock wall as it slowly began to sink back into the ground, and they prepared themselves for battle. Thanas ran toward Leon and Xanthe, who were struggling against a horde of Romans.

Percy raised Anaklusmos as the Romans began to converge on him.

"Zoë!" he screamed. "You've ruined this!"

"Don't kill them!" Zoë shouted to the Romans. "Capture only!"

The Romans followed her orders.

Immediately, their aggressive stance shifted. The Roman leader repeated the command, and they locked shields and formed a ring around him. Percy sneered at Zoë. She was going to get them killed. The Romans were going to kill them once the Hunters were out of their sight.

Percy tried his best, but as the shields converged on him, he had nowhere to run. There was no other option. He couldn't overexert himself. They needed to get to Tyre as soon as possible. They needed to shadow travel.

He summoned Aegis and slammed through their shields. He winced as two blades caught him on the shoulder and leg respectively, but he broke through their line. Whirling around, he caught two Romans in the face with a wild swing. The younger one immediately dropped his weapons and clutched his face in pain.

"Percy!" Thanas shouted.

He looked over. Thanas and Leon were holding Xanthe, who was unconscious and bleeding heavily from a wound in her side that looked like a javelin that had been torn out of her gut. Percy snarled in anger.

"We have to go!" Thanas shouted. "But I don't know what will happen to Xanthe if we make a trip!"

Percy glanced at Zoë and the Hunters, who stared down at him like he was an animal waiting to be hunted. He was furious. Zoë's stupid meddling had cost them the surprise advantage on the Roman forces, tired and weakened them, and now Xanthe was wounded badly. It no longer matter that they'd killed more than dozens of Amazons and Roman scouts. They needed to get to the sea to heal her.

"Find a place close by," Percy ordered. Thanas nodded. "Near a river or the sea. Quickly!"

He heard Zoë shout something at her Hunters. They started to burst into action. He didn't know what they were planning, but he had a bad feeling that if they didn't get out immediately, they would be trapped.

Percy reached out toward Thanas, and the moment they touched fingers, the world disappeared around him.

They appeared in a cave near the shore.

Leon and Thanas rushed Xanthe to the water and dunked her in. Percy stepped forward and winced as a searing pain ran up from the cut on his leg. He took a few deep breaths and trudged through the sand to the ocean's edge, and as he stepped into the sea, he felt strength surge into his chest. The cuts on his leg and shoulder began to close up until they were nothing but scars.

Xanthe's wound began to close, but she clearly wasn't in good condition. He looked back at the cave they had emerged from. Judging from the position on the shore, they were about halfway between Antioch and Tyre.

"How is she?" Leon asked. His eyes were wild. Unlike his usual smile, Leon's anger was untempered and stormy. "Will she be okay?"

Thanas placed a hand on her forehead. He nodded. "She will be alright. She just needs time to heal."

"How long is that going to be?" Leon asked angrily.

"I'm not a doctor!" Thanas snapped, equally irritated and angry. "I don't know. All I can say is that she's going to live."

"Then how are we going to fight?" Leon argued. Percy's ears popped as Leon's anger grew. "We can't just leave Xanthe. We don't know anyone out here and we have to take care of her. But how much longer can we run from the Romans? They'll find us eventually. You can't keep shadow travelling us everywhere. Look how tired you are already!"

"I'm not all-seeing!" Thanas shot back. He stood up and took a step toward Leon. "My love died. I know how hard it is, especially since I'm close to Xanthe as well. But we'll find a way. I'll shadow travel as much as I have to. You can dispatch those eagles with ease and we'll run for as long as we can."

Percy glanced at the wilderness behind them. In the plains of old Phoenician lands, it would definitely be harder for the Hunters to stay hidden. But Percy knew staying hidden wasn't of the utmost importance. Zoë would hunt them down and keep the Romans notified. He knew she was just trying to prevent them from destroying the Thirteenth and Fourteenth legions, but she also had to know that eventually they would tire and die. The Romans wouldn't spare them.

The Hunters would find them within a day or two. There was little doubt about that. Percy had to stop them before Zoë fed more information to the Romans. Leon and Thanas could deal with the giant eagles easily; he wasn't afraid of the Romans so long as the four of them were winning the information war. He trusted them to stay hidden while he searched for the Hunters and sent a message.

Percy knelt down next to Xanthe's body and put his palm to her forehead. She was cold and weak. She needed time to recover. His best guess was about two weeks, judging by the severity of the wound.

He snapped his fingers, and the two boys stopped arguing.

"I'll take care of it," Percy said. He didn't take his eyes off his half-sister. "You two need to protect Xanthe. Stick to the plains and hills. Away from forests. Kill any wolves you see. Handle the giant eagles. I'll get the trackers off our asses."

"Trackers?" Leon asked. "The Hunters?"

Percy gave him a solemn look. "An old friend of mine has become an enemy. I'm sorry. It's my fault."

Thanas blinked. "What... what are you going to do?"

Percy clenched his jaw.

"Send a message."

* * *

Zoë thought it was suspicious that the footprints were obvious.

Thea jogged around the tree ahead of them. She knelt down and scanned the ground. Zoë arrived, following the prints, and glanced at the trampled bushes. Thea grinned at her and said, "Amazing. They chose the perfect spot to cut away. How long did you say Percy's been alive for?"

"A long time," Zoë muttered, glancing at the wreckage.

The entrance to the woods had been hastily covered up, but the tracks further in were covered perfectly. It was almost a perfect job. But Percy had messed up on concealing the path entrance. Zoë thought it was strange that he had messed up covering the entrance.

"They must have been in a rush because of the injured girl," Thea reasoned. "There's dried blood all over the place. All the evidence points to them rushing this way. If we just follow the path, we'll reach them."

Zoë shook her head. "Something is off, Thea. Percy's been covering tracks for over a thousand years. He wouldn't be so hasty like this, especially with two able-bodied demigods with him. This is a trap."

Thea pursed her lips. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

Zoë touched the footprints. There were four distinct footprints, one of which was sporadic and uneven. Two of them shuffled almost in sync, as if they were helping the first person walk. The last set of footprints was Percy's. There was no doubt about that. She'd tracked him enough to recognize them. But Percy made one mistake. He forgot that they'd tracked the Trio before.

To Thea's untrained eyes, the prints were the same. But Zoë knew, despite how well Percy had tried to replicate them, they were just slightly off. The son of Zeus had a slightly longer stride, and his toes pointed out slightly when he walked. The son of Hades slid or dragged his feet sometimes, resulting in odd-looking prints. None of these replicated steps showed signs of sliding or dragging.

"Let's continue down the path and meet up with Phoebe," Zoë said, eyeing the fake tracks. "Hopefully she'll have something to report on regarding the whereabouts of the Trio."

Zoë felt unsettled as they continued. Thea scouted ahead, reporting any problems or issues she ran into. She had her suspicions that Percy was alone, so why wouldn't she take the chance and attack him?

She shook her head. She knew how Percy would react to the situation. Having numbers would work against her favour. He wouldn't hesitate to use other Hunters against her, especially if he had the advantage. She couldn't sacrifice her Hunters. Once Thea got back to the safety of the group, she would venture out and meet Percy alone. She needed to show the Trio that this was enough, and that they could put an end to it.

If that meant being the sacrifice for the son of Hades to realize, then she would do it.

"Phoebe!" Thea suddenly shouted.

Zoë shot to attention and looked up. Thea ran off around the bend without looking back. Zoë cursed and ran after her. "Thea, don't run off!"

When she turned the bend, her heart nearly stopped.

Hanging by a rope from a tree branch was Phoebe's body. The rope had been tied roughly around her neck, and there were clear signs of a desperate struggle. Thea climbed up the tree and cut her down. Zoë rushed to her side, immediately checking her heartbeat.

Thea watched her expectantly, but Zoë heard nothing. Her chest was silent, as if she was a statue.

Thea clenched her fists. "You were right. It was a trap. Percy... Percy got to Phoebe already."

"How...?" Zoë whispered. She was surprised to find herself crying. "How, Phoebe?"

"I told you to stop," a familiar voice said coldly.

As Zoë turned, something shot out of the ground and wrapped around her legs. Zoë gasped as she felt the cold metal tighten around her, pulling her off her feet. Thea drew her bow and aimed it at the immortal demigod behind her.

Percy emerged with Anaklusmos.

"Wait!" Zoë shouted.

But Thea fired.

Percy raised Aegis, and the arrow shattered harmlessly against the bronze shield. Percy advanced like a demon, his eyes filled with anger and bloodlust. Thea didn't stand a chance against him.

Zoë summoned her bow and tried to shoot from her position on the ground, but Percy produced a rock from his Infinity Pouch and threw it at her head. It caught her across the forehead, and her vision went fuzzy.

Thea dodged and weaved, darting in to strike when she could. But Percy was a formidable fighter. Zoë knew how to handle him in battle. It was something she was sure very few others in the world knew how to do. All Thea needed to do was stay just far enough away that Percy couldn't strike effectively with Anaklusmos, but not far enough away to allow him to summon his bow and arrow. But she also needed to be as fast as a panther and fierce as a drakon.

Percy was just too fast for her. He darted in and slashed at her shins. He waited for her counterattack and smashed her face in with the butt of his sword.

With a severely broken nose, Thea was in no condition to fight. Tears welled in her eyes from the stinging pain, and her face was a bloody mess.

Percy's eyes flashed as he saw an opening.

Zoë reached out, shouting at Percy to stop.

But it was like her voice had gone silent.

Percy had killed many people. He'd stabbed them. He had opened up fatal wounds and let victims bleed out. He'd used many forms of torture and punishment. But the one thing he had rarely done was behead a victim. It wasn't as if decapitation was uncommon. In fact, it was a very common method of execution. But Percy had at least that much respect for the bodies of the dead.

Percy slashed twice.

Zoë watched in horror as he bent down and picked up Thea's head. He produced a wooden rod out of the Infinity Pouch and put her head on it like a sign on a post.

"This is a warning, Zoë," Percy said darkly. He snapped his fingers. Phoebe's body suddenly shimmered away, and Zoë realized that it was actually a hollow wooden statue. The metal around her legs was actually a figment of her imagination. He'd manipulated the Mist around them. All she'd done was trip on her own feet. "No more of your girls have to die."

The one thing that _wasn't_ a mirage was Thea's head, jammed onto a post and planted in the ground for all of nature to see.

Zoë stood up shakily.

"Don't intervene again," Percy snapped. "Or I'll kill the other Hunters as well. I don't think you'd want that."

Zoë stared disbelievingly at Thea's head. Her eyes had been closed by Percy, but blood still oozed from the stub that once was her neck.

"You monster!" she shouted.

But Percy was no longer there.

Like a shadow, he vanished.

She took a few steps forward and knelt down next to Thea's body. She closed her eyes several times, hoping that when she opened them it would all just be a terrible dream. But Thea's headless body wouldn't go away. Her vision blurred with anger and grief.

Percy's presence was gone. He'd vanished... disappeared. She didn't want to follow his warning. She wanted to stop him, but she couldn't afford to sacrifice any of her other Hunters. She'd failed.

"Zoë!"

It was Phoebe and the other Hunters.

It must have been a shock for them, she thought. A few of the Hunters immediately became sick. Others cried out in grief and horror. Phoebe looked furious.

"Perseus!" she screamed. "Where are you, you bastard?"

"He's gone," Zoë croaked. Her voice sounded weak, even to her. "He... he trapped us with the Mist. I think... I think he's weak now, though. The Trio aren't here."

Phoebe was brimming with anger, but she managed to force out her report. "That's something I'd wanted to report to you. I searched the whole area. I found Percy's tracks leading up to the area you and Thea surveyed. I found the point where he started creating fake tracks. I... If I had just been a little quicker, I could have come here and helped. I..."

Phoebe couldn't finish her sentence as she stared at Thea's head.

"Phoebe," Zoë shook her head. "You did the best you could. We didn't know that Percy would—"

"I told you he'd gone down a dark path!" Phoebe growled. She clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. "I'll track him down. We'll avenge Thea."

"Don't," Zoë said. She put her hands up. "He'll... he'll kill you all."

Phoebe stared at her. "He can't kill us all at once."

"He can and he will," Zoë insisted. His warning sent a shiver down her spine. "He knows we'll be angry and want revenge. He'll lure us into another trap. He'll choose the battlefield and drown us all. I... I have to go alone. That's the only way he'll listen."

"Are you crazy?" Phoebe exclaimed. "Alone? He'll kill you for sure!"

Zoë shook her head. She remembered three years ago when they had their last journey together. She wasn't sure she had those feelings anymore, but there was no denying that he had a soft spot for her. Just like how she had a soft spot for him. It was exactly as Irene had predicted. If she could exploit that one more time... carry out Irene's final plan...

Phoebe gave her a long, hard look. Zoë knew Phoebe had her doubts, but they had been together for over a millennia. Phoebe would eventually give in. The daughter of Ares sighed, "Then promise me one thing, Zoë."

She stared at her best tracker, dreading what she was about to say.

"When you see him..." Phoebe snarled and pointed at Thea's body. "Kill him."

* * *

**Lots of page breaks in this chapter. In a regular novel, these would probably be individual short-burst chapters, but hey it's FanFiction so whatever lol. Slap it together. Hope y'all are still doing well.**


	35. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

_End of the Heroic Age (before Percy's exile)  
Property of the Gods  
City-State of Athens_

"I'm back!" Percy shouted from the entrance.

Irene looked up from the book she was reading. Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Took you long enough."

The son of Poseidon gave her a weird look. "Excuse me? I spent all this time gathering food for you, and you can't even feign appreciation?"

She didn't feel like feigning appreciation. "Whatever."

"You're like a spoiled teenager," Percy sighed, bringing the food to the storage area. Most of the loot consisted of bread, beans and olives, though it looked like he'd gone hunting. "Your physical form is older than mine, need I remind you."

"It doesn't matter when your true age is like my grandfather's."

Zoë entered from the front. "Irene, be appreciative. Percy has spent a lot of time helping you, even after the war."

"Mostly because of Athena," Percy joked, stocking the food storage. "Plus, she's relatively harmless."

"Are you sure you don't want to join the Hunters?" Zoë asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Irene frowned. "Well, Athena made me immortal, so I really don't think that I'm supposed to. I know you keep saying Artemis will take care of it, but I don't know about that. Athena's the goddess of wisdom. I don't think she'd lose in an argument against Artemis. No offense."

"You're not insulting me," Zoë said with a small smile. "But I wouldn't say that to Lady Artemis' face."

"Look at you being casual," Percy grinned. He was almost done putting the food away. "Last time, that son of Apollo insulted Artemis and you all tied him up like a hog. I swear, if you could, you would've eaten him."

"Even if Lady Artemis turned him into a hog, we wouldn't eat filth like that," Zoë shot back, though her gaze was playful. "That's barbaric."

"You know what's barbaric? People who eat fish."

"Fish are a great source of food."

"You're horrible."

Zoë rolled her eyes and set down the game they'd hunted.

Irene leaned forward on the table. "So, Zoë. How long are you on leave from the Hunters for?"

"It's not exactly a 'leave' per say." Zoë began to skin the hares they'd shot. "We're practising an emergency situation. If we get separated, can we survive on our own? Naturally, I'm going to take the easy route."

"She's lazy," Percy told Irene. "You should've seen her back in the day. I did all the hard work to get us to Olympus so that she could become a Hunter in the first place."

"Oh, really? Is that the lie you want to tell our young, impressionable princess?"

"Did you just call Irene a young, impressionable princess? I'm sure she would love to argue with you on that point."

Zoë glanced up at Irene. Irene nodded and said, "I don't like being called a princess."

"Fair enough."

Irene took the book and went to put it away.

"How much did you read?" Percy called from the kitchen. "Did you finish the first act like I told you to?"

"Yes!" Irene called back. She stowed the book in the back room. "It's all fake, though!"

"What do you mean?"

She went back to the front. "You're rewriting history. How could you just omit yourself from everything? Everyone knew you. Everyone saw you. Hector always said you were the Greek we should both fear and respect most."

"If you tell people what they want to hear, they will believe it is the truth, even if it is all fabricated," he replied. He closed the food storage and turned to her, his hands on his hips. "What fun is it if there's a demigod in the midst of it all that can do whatever the heck he wants? It makes it more exciting for the readers."

"Well, if you want to rewrite history, why don't you just eliminate the first eight years and just summarize everything in the last year. Everything important happened in the last year anyway."

Percy looked at Zoë, who was still skinning the hares. "What do you think, Zoë?"

"I don't care," Zoë replied without even looking up. "It was a stupid war."

"Yet you still came to fight me."

"Because it was you."

"I'm flattered that you thought I was worth killing."

Zoë shot him a look. "Don't test me, Perseus." She showed him her hunting knife. "Maybe I _will_ decide you're worth killing."

"You saved my life on that beach. You don't have the guts to kill me."

Irene smiled at the two of them. She loved watching them bicker. It was like watching the banter of best friends. Or were they like lovers? She couldn't tell. She didn't know what lovers did. Sometimes, she wondered why Zoë joined the Hunters when she and Percy were so close.

"You're probably right," Zoë muttered, "but you're still annoying."

"I'd be more concerned if I wasn't annoying."

The two stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter. Irene blinked, startled at the sudden change in their expressions. It still caught her off guard when they did that.

"You two are weirdos," she told them.

"How long before she stops being an edgy teen?" Percy asked Zoë.

Zoë shrugged. "I never went through that phase."

"Did you just stand there and tend to the garden?" Irene leaned forward in curiosity. "Didn't it get boring? Didn't you want to go out and explore the world?"

The Hunter paused, pursing her lips, as if she didn't like recalling her old memories. But she continued softly, "It was different back then. I was born before the gods even came to power. I lived in a world ruled by anarchy and chaos. It was better to stay in the sanctity of our garden. Atlas always warned us never to venture outside. I was the rebellious one, but even I didn't dare disobey. When the gods came to power, Atlas was forced to hold up the sky, and we tended to and guarded the garden beneath. My sisters believed it was some sort of duty, like we should have been proud of being the keepers of the garden."

"I think you're forgetting that you _did_ want to go out and explore the world," Percy pointed out. His expression was serious, and he watched Zoë carefully. "That was part of the reason you fell for him."

Zoë gave him a dark look, but didn't argue.

Heracles. Irene knew the name well. He was the one that had sacked Troy when King Laomedon was in power, before it built its famous walls. Trojans respected the hero's strength despite their defeat.

"I eventually did get to explore the world... to some extent," Zoë said with a small smile. "It was fun."

"And life-threatening," Percy added.

"It was worth it."

Percy and Zoë locked gazes. Irene could feel an odd tension in the air, and when the two continued to look at each other for a moment too long, it became a little uncomfortable.

Irene cleared her throat. "So, um, what's for dinner?"

The two broke out of their stupor, and Percy lamely gestured to the hares and said, his voice cracking, "Food."

Irene couldn't hold back a smile. "Was that a voice crack?"

"Maybe."

"Your body must still be going through puberty," Zoë remarked. She suppressed a smile. "Even if your mind and soul is that of an old man, your body is young."

"Old man?" Percy looked affronted. "Weren't you just defending me from Irene's rude comments from earlier?"

"I wasn't being rude!" Irene exclaimed.

At the same time, Zoë jutted her chin out at him and huffed, "You're much younger than I am. I can tease you all I want."

"Maybe you were born earlier, but I saw the outside world for thirteen years before you set foot outside your garden!"

"Oh no, here we go again," Irene muttered as they continued to bicker.

"Doesn't matter, I'm still older!"

"You're such a child."

"Oh, shut up."

"I'm the one actually taking care of Irene. I feed her, buy her clothes, give her accommodation—"

"That's all true," Irene agreed.

"See!"

Zoë looked between the two of them and sighed. "Yes, I suppose that's true."

"But!" Irene interrupted, causing Percy to face her. "Without Zoë, I don't think I'd be any better than a sack of flesh. She can talk to me about things that you would find hard understanding, Percy. I owe my life to both of you."

"When will you show this 'owing' that you claim to have to me?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If Zoë can tease you, why can't I? I'm not a baby. You said so yourself. My physical age is older than yours."

He crossed his arms. "Then you have to back up your words and show that you're more than a sack of flesh."

She frowned. "I'm trying. Just give me time. It's not easy, okay?"

"You've had several years to train."

"Only three months with Zoë!"

"She's not going to be around forever."

"Why not? She can just take more breaks from the Hunters."

Percy glanced at Zoë, who looked unsure.

"You two like being around each other, don't you?" Irene exclaimed. "I mean, you actually like each other, don't you?"

The two averted their eyes.

"So why not? Why not be together, the three of us? For as long as we can."

Percy pressed his lips together in thought. "Irene—"

"I like both of you." She looked at them in the eyes trying to be as serious-looking as possible. "I like Grandpa Percy and my older sister Zoë. I don't know what Athena has planned for me, but life is terrifying when you're living it alone. Trust me, I know how lonely life is when it feels like everyone you think you love thinks of you as nothing but a tool. Even if we're not always physically together, we can try to be as often as possible, can't we?"

Percy watched her carefully. "Is that why you're so tentative around me? Constantly teasing me? Because you're afraid of emotional connection. Because you've been stripped of that by those you called your family."

Irene wasn't sure herself. What she _did_ know was that she liked the bickering. She liked being with Percy and Zoë. They made her feel comfortable, aside from the awkward moments when they drew too close to the line of romance. All her life, the ones closest to her never tried to understand her except Hector. She didn't know why she was made immortal, but if she was going to live, she didn't want to live alone. She couldn't fight for a better future if she couldn't even take care of her own life.

He walked over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "Listen, kiddo. If Athena made you immortal, she did so for a reason. She thinks you are worthy. That's enough for me to think you're worth something. I wouldn't take care of you for no reason."

Zoë gave her a bittersweet look. "I can't promise to be here, but I understand that you're hesitant about joining the Hunters. I'll always be willing to help a potential sister, even if that means coming back every so often."

"Yeah," Percy agreed. "We'll be here for you. Nothing can change that."

"Don't say 'nothing,'" Zoë reprimanded. "You'll jinx it."

Percy laughed. "My will is a lot stronger than you think, Zoë."

"The gods can break you."

"And why would they ever do that?"

_Why would they ever do that?_

* * *

Xanthe shot awake, feeling like she was an arm's length away from death.

Her dream of the Hunter named Thea didn't help.

"Xanthe!" Leon exclaimed, appearing above her. The son of Zeus turned to his right and shouted, "Thanas! She's awake!"

"Percy..." she muttered.

Thanas appeared next to her. He had a small piece of ambrosia in his pale hands. The son of Hades looked ghostly. "He killed one of the Hunters."

"Again?" Leon slumped back down. "He's going to slip back into his demonic self if we don't do something about it."

Thanas fed her the ambrosia. "It's not as easy as it sounds. Irene never told us what needed to happen. She died before her plan could come to fruition."

Xanthe lay still, staring at the ceiling above her. They were in some sort of cave close to the shore. She could smell the ocean breeze outside. It almost felt like it was over, like Percy was too far gone to be saved. How could they destroy the legions if they couldn't even beat back an ambush?

It wasn't exactly fair to think that. No one in their right mind would ever think they could single-handedly destroy an army.

Still, it was obvious that the Hunters and Amazons were greatly helping the Roman cause. Without them, the four of them would've been able to resupply, get good rest, and feed and hydrate themselves sufficiently. Even after the ambrosia, Xanthe felt tired and malnourished. Maybe she'd lost a lot of blood. She couldn't tell.

"Do you think it's time, Xanthe?" Leon asked.

She knew what he was talking about, but Thanas sounded confused. "Time for what?"

"The last card we have to play," Leon said. He sounded defeated. "I'm beginning to think that... all of this is going exactly the way Irene wanted it to go."

"How? She's dead."

"Maybe that's what she wanted."

Xanthe closed her eyes. It pained her to even think about the possible truth.

"Thanas, you know it yourself. Revenge on Apollo isn't the main thing Percy wants anymore. Maybe it used to be, but now... his goal is something different entirely. I don't know if it was the right move. Just thinking about it in the moment, I think Irene misjudged Percy. He wasn't as far gone as she thought he was. But she did it anyway. So we can't miss our chance."

"Thea..." Xanthe whispered. "That's the name of the Hunter that was killed."

The two boys went silent.

"I had a dream." She found herself choking up as she thought about what it all meant. "I don't think... I don't think Zoë is our enemy. She knew Percy set up a trap for them but she walked into it anyway. If I knew whether Zoë brought Thea with her on purpose or if it was Phoebe's idea, then maybe I could say."

"Zoë's the other one, right?" Leon asked. "Not Phoebe, but the other girl we saw in Athens that day."

"Irene must have spoken with Zoë," she muttered. "That's the only way. For three years, she gave Zoë information. She must have also involved Zoë in the plan."

"Or she could have turned against us for real this time," he pointed out.

She knew he was right. There wasn't any evidence that Zoë was on their side. But why would she have the dream then? Thanas could already sense death, especially when it involved those he was consciously aware of. There was also the fact that Zoë planned to go confront Percy alone. What did the Hunter hope to accomplish? Just because they used to love each other?

"It might be up to us," Leon told her quietly, reminding her of Hecate's gifts.

Thanas watched them closely. "Care to enlighten me?"

Leon sighed. He explained the situation, including the goddess they'd run into when they visited the old campsite and the decision she said they would have to make.

Thanas paled. "That's crazy."

"But it might be our only shot."

"And risk everything to chance?"

Leon looked down. He wasn't stupid. He knew it was a crazy sounding plan, but it was the best they could come up with based on the facts they knew. Xanthe understood, just as Leon had explained, that it all depended on the choice Irene made. And because she decided that dying was the path forward...

They knew, based on Percy's story, that Phoebe had caused her to fall into the dark pit. By all accounts, it was Phoebe's fault, and Irene had no way of conjuring up such a plan. In her dream, Phoebe cursed Percy and showed no signs that Irene had asked her to deliver a final blow. While Xanthe should have felt angry at Phoebe, she couldn't muster up the energy.

"You still can't find Irene's soul in the Underworld?" Leon asked, breaking the silence.

Thanas pursed his lips. "No. I can't. Like I said, her soul seemed to evaporate. It's like her essence burned up, like she fell into the Phlegethon in Tartarus."

Xanthe pushed herself up into a sitting position. Leon helped her, gently supporting her where she felt weak. "We have to fight the Romans."

"You're too weak, you can't fight," Leon said in concern.

"I'll heal up quickly," she said, dismissing the concern. "This is our war. We have to finish it. Even if we don't know what Irene's plan was, or if the Hunters will track us down and kill us at Zoë's or Phoebe's command, we have to destroy the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Legions."

Thanas looked angry and defiant, like he did after becoming the leader of the Greeks in the war effort, after coming to terms with the pain of Ionna's death. "Xanthe's right about that, Leon. Like I said back at the beginning, Ionna died to give us an advantage in the war. She wasn't successful, but at least she tried. I'm going to do the same. If we're going to show Percy that destroying the Roman legions isn't the way forward, as paradoxical as it sounds, we need to destroy the legions following us."

Leon stared at him for a while, as if dissecting his thoughts with his eyes. "You suddenly have a hunch as to why Irene's death makes sense, don't you?"

Thanas let out a bark of laughter. "You're good at reading people, Leon."

"It's a curse more than a gift," the son of Zeus replied with a grim smile.

Xanthe had a feeling they were all on the same page. The three of them looked at each other. They had however long it took for her to recover to let the truth skin in. Then, it was time for action.

Irene started it. Now they had to end it.

* * *

Percy hadn't gone far, as if he was expecting her to follow him.

Zoë tracked him down to a clearing overlooking the sea somewhere almost halfway between Antioch and Tyre.

The moment he turned around and met her eyes, she couldn't rein in her emotions.

"How could you?" she yelled. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed as she remembered the terrified face of the young Hunter. "You killed Thea!"

_You should have killed me instead!_ she thought desperately.

It was raining, and the sky felt like a coffin's lid, slowly suffocating them. For some reason, she felt like she'd experienced this before.

Percy was standing across from her, blood stained along Anaklusmos' blade. With a cold look, he growled, "If you hadn't intervened, I wouldn't have had to do it."

Thunder shook the world.

"Every time we meet, someone dies," she found herself saying, like she was reciting lines from a play. "You can't seem to hold it in, can you? All you can think about nowadays is killing. Killing. Murdering. Slaughtering."

He clenched his teeth. "So do you think I'm going to sit back and let them attack my kind? I get it. You're not from Greece. You're not of the same species. You're a nymph. You were meant to be a guardian of a garden for your entire existence."

"When you promised me you wouldn't break your oath, this isn't what I meant as a means to express your anger and fury!" The winds grew stronger. "I followed you into those forsaken lands and nearly died because of it."

"No one asked you to follow me!" Percy stepped closer, raising his blade to her shoulder. He sneered, and she could see the contempt in his eyes. "You don't seem to understand how I feel! Just because you have a family, doesn't mean that all is right in the world. The gods are unjust. I was exiled for being forced to copulate with Aphrodite in Zeus' temple!"

"Since when did life become all about you?" she spat back.

He pushed her roughly with his hand. She stumbled back, surprised at his nerve. He stabbed Anaklusmos into the ground, and the world began to tremble. Percy looked up at her, his eyes filled with poison.

"Do you remember how we first met?" he asked, his voice quivering with emotion. "Do you remember our first days together? Our first years together? We didn't go a single day without seeking revenge, seeking redemption, seeking a battle. Our goal was to get you to become a Hunter. Don't you remember what that connotation meant? You would be a killer, too. You would hunt game, be Artemis' partner... Everything we did when we fell in love was a fight. Not fighting with each other but fighting together! We fought side-by-side against some of the worst monsters in existence. Fighting is what made us stick to each other."

Zoë opened her mouth for a rebuttal, but no sound came out. In a way, she knew it was true. But she didn't like the fact that it was all they could remember of their first days.

"We've both changed," he continued. "You and your Hunters... You should have stayed away from here."

Zoë had made a judgment error. She knew that Thea's death was her own fault, and she knew she only needed to pretend to be cold and cruel to Percy, but an intense wave of genuine anger washed over her. All of it was directed toward Percy.

_He's changed_, Artemis had told her. _You would be wise to stay away from him._ _I should have expected this. Few men have truly proven their worth to me. A pity he could not maintain it._

_When you see him_, Phoebe snarled. _Kill him._

Zoë drew her hunting knives and attacked.

Percy's eyes widened and he raised his sword to protect himself.

Their battle didn't last long.

She feinted with her right blade, slashing upwards with her left. He knew it was coming and lunged forward to grab her wrist. Her immediate reaction was to kick him away, but in doing so she had to drop her blade. He would have snapped her wrist if she held on.

Leaping backward, she summoned her bow and fired three arrows in rapid succession. He easily deflected them away. He reached out with his hand and closed his fist. Zoë realized what he was doing too late. Rushing toward him as fast as she could, she tried to land one last strike on him, but the water roared out of the trees and slammed into her. She could feel the cold current rushing around her, slowly collapsing and condensing like he was trying to crush her. She could feel her lungs screaming for air, but the water around her didn't give her the chance.

Her heart pulsed and her brain pounded. She felt almost ready to collapse.

Then the water's grip released, and she fell to the ground. Her lungs and mouth sucked in as much air as they could, leaving her wheezing and shuddering on the cold ground.

Percy was smart. She knew that. If he fought her in one-on-one combat, there would be no winner for what would seem like days. But using the power he'd honed over the past one thousand years, he could easily crush her and suffocate her to death. Something told her that it was their old friendship that prevented him from killing her right then and there.

"I don't want to piss Artemis off," he said, making an excuse. "Not yet. I can't afford her synthesizing to prevent me from achieving my goal."

"To murder?" she coughed, still heaving for breath.

"You wouldn't understand," he snarled.

For the first time, she could use the word "hate" to describe his feelings for her. This was the end. After this, he would never forgive her. Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest. She hated what she was doing. She hated Irene's plan.

Getting to her feet, she almost felt like breaking into tears. Her heart squeezed like it was about to burst, and her body seemed to move on its own accord. Making a clawed hand over her chest, she closed her eyes and pushed outward. A gesture to ward off evil.

The rain began to stop.

Peeking through the dark clouds was sunlight, shining on her like the heavens were reaching out. She could see Percy in front of her. His eyes swirled with a mixture of emotions, just like hers. Fury, hate, sadness, pain. His anger subsided, as if the demonic spirits taking over his body and mind were cast away by her ward. He began to retreat into the shadows. Turning his back, he rushed away into the woods, away from the light and into the darkness.

Just like his heart.


	36. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

It took two weeks for Xanthe to recover, but it didn't matter. They were supposed to die anyway.

"You realize that this is what we're fated to do, right?" Xanthe said. They were gathered at the campfire with Percy having gone on a hunting expedition. "We're not supposed to be heroes. This... this is our sacrifice. We're sacrificing our afterlife for the betterment of the future."

Thanas didn't want to believe it. After years of training, years of hard work, all of it was going to waste. But they'd realized it even before the ambush.

The wars started when Athena's statue was taken from Athens. It would only end when the statue was recovered or returned. Ionna failed her quest. As a champion of Minerva in this generation, she failed. And so did her two half-brothers. As terrible as it was, that meant that the war would not be over. Not yet.

But there was a way to stop the damage.

Greek demigods were never organized like the Romans. They were sporadic, self-serving and impulsive. Many Greeks even served the Romans. The existence of multiple Roman legions was, in fact, a threat to the survival of Greek demigods. So long as the Romans hunted Greeks, the Greeks would fall and perish.

It wasn't only that.

The Roman legend began with Troy. It was Percy saving the Trojans that would bring forth the beginning of the Roman Kingdom and, much later, the Roman Empire. It was numbing to think about, but they were only a chapter in the whole story. They played a minor role in all of this. This perpetual war between the Romans and the Greeks was Percy's story.

Revenge, hatred, death. Oftentimes, in the past, Thanas believed those things were best served to his enemies, the Romans. He believed that, simply because he was the son of Hades, those he disagreed with would serve in the Fields of Punishment for eternity. That his father would side with him.

That couldn't have been further from the truth.

The only thing that existed in the Underworld was justice. And justice was as cruel as it was fair. The Romans weren't all demons. Many of them were human, just like him. Many of them were just afraid of the enemy, believing the other side was hunting them down to the last man or woman or child. He saw it in their eyes as he cut them down.

Thanas remembered the horrible images in the lands beyond the gods that Percy once endured. Those things weren't natural. In fact, the more Thanas had learned, the more he began to suspect that his exile was some sort of punishment for something _more_ than just Zeus' irrationality. Thanas remembered Percy saying he'd broken an oath to protect the Greeks. Thanas remembered Percy's choice to seek revenge on Apollo and Ares. Percy intentionally chose his path desiring revenge, but unknowingly chose the path that would do everything in its power to break the humanity within him.

And it worked.

"Our task is our task," Thanas said, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. "We will destroy the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Legions should the opportunity present itself."

"If we destroy every legion but one, the gods will finally intervene," Leon agreed. "They'll put a stop to it all. Somehow."

"You've all seen the dreams," Xanthe said darkly. "No one in history before us has taken the lives of so many demigods. If anything, we're just accelerating a gradual process of elimination. Every era is broken down into different ages. The Golden Age, the Silver Age, the Bronze Age, the Age of Heroes, the Iron Age, the Age of Rome. We're transitioning to a new age."

Thanas clenched his fists.

Leon mumbled. "It makes sense, but I still don't like it."

"The Age of Rome ended when Constantine became emperor," Xanthe continued. "We've been in a transitory period for hundreds of years. Now, we'll be damning the gods and their children to obscurity in the history of humankind. And that's the way it needs to be. We can't let mortals get caught in our battles. Demigods and the knowledge of the Olympians need to fade for the world to rebuild itself."

"This is our last battle, isn't it?" Leon said.

Xanthe looked at Thanas. He wasn't sure what to say. Even though Leon had posed the phrase as a question, it was more a reiteration of fact than an uncertainty. They were able to destroy the Eleventh Legion, but they nearly killed themselves doing it. To take out the Thirteenth and Fourteenth would likely require their lives as compensation.

"This is what Percy wants," Xanthe said quietly. "He wants us to destroy them."

Thanas thought about his dreams again. He closed his eyes. "At this point, we've come too far to turn back. This chapter of the war will end once we destroy these legions. The Twelfth Legion is trapped in Frankia, and many of our family members are being hunted by Christians back home. Each side has its own problems it needs to take care of. When word spreads of what we did, the Romans will rethink their strategy of attacking us."

"Tactically speaking," Leon muttered, "not saving the children of Athena is good for the world. They're the ones sparking these wars."

Thanas shot him a glare. But he knew the son of Zeus was right. Children of Athena were the cause of many of the wars. To avenge their mother, who had been sacked and replaced, they would go to the most extreme lengths. Thanas loved Ionna, and he believed in her cause, but the world was better off without them.

"The gods don't want their kids to kill each other," Thanas said. "At least, when they're in stable forms. This isn't to stop Percy from obliterating the Roman legions. It's to save Percy's life and soul, give him a chance to redeem himself. If we continued to fight with him, if we pushed the Romans to the very brink, the Roman gods would strike him down and he would go straight to the Fields of Punishment."

"So, instead, we'll go," Leon said.

Thanas gave him a wry smile. "I don't think we would've made it to Elysium anyway. Even without Percy our lives would have been spent fighting a brutal war with the Romans."

"I'm not complaining," Leon told him. He smiled. "I'm doing this for Percy. I may not like some of the Romans, but the gods are more fucked up for doing what they did to Percy. It's their fault he would end up in the Fields of Punishment. And they would shoulder no blame."

Xanthe pressed her lips together in a tight line. "I agree."

The three of them had come a long way in the past three years. They'd suffered, been toyed with, had their families and loved ones stripped away from them. All done by Romans. But with Florian and the Romans captives that thanked them and smiled at them for letting them go back in the forests near Attaleia, and all the humanity in the Romans that Thanas had never been exposed to before fleeing the camp, he'd come to appreciate that they weren't all so different.

It didn't mean he liked the Romans. He was still angry that they took everything away from him. He was still angry that they wanted to kill the few friends and family he had left. But he was able to feel something he hadn't been able to feel before: empathy.

The evil Romans, like Marcus, deserved to die. But many of his lower-ranked followers were there simply because they were threatened to. They had no power over who commanded them. They had no power over the actions they were required to take. Unless they didn't fear death.

Romans didn't deserve to die any more than the Greeks.

Death, in itself, and all the spirits of the Underworld weren't things to cheer for. Thanatos himself was a very kind, solemn and soft-spoken god. After all, death was sad. Despite all the abuse Christians gave to pagans, pagans once gave Christians a hard time. Those social connotations and labels blurred the lines that distinguished the fact that humans are humans, regardless of ethnicity, social class or whatever else there might be.

Thanas bowed his head and offered a toast to the fire. "I know you're down there, Father. I just... wanted to say that the three of us have had pretty difficult lives. We haven't played and been happy and haven't been carefree. We've always fought our enemies to the last man. And I know, with all the things we've done, we don't deserve to go anywhere but the Fields of Punishment. But... I hope you remember us, if our souls survive the end. As we suffer for eternity in the Underworld, I think... I'll always remember the fact that we ended our lives on our terms. We've endured a lot. Enough for one lifetime. Perhaps, in a thousand years, we'll get a second chance. I hope you help Percy turn this world into a beautiful place when we return... _if_ we return."

Xanthe couldn't hold back her tears. She kissed Leon and sobbed into his shoulder. The son of Zeus held her tight, as if they were the ones about to be killed by evil enemies.

Thanas stared at the fire. "Somewhere down there, Ionna is lost. Give me a maze, Father. A maze to find Ionna. But a near-impossible maze. One I won't figure out for a thousand years. I want to apologize. I want to say... I want to say goodbye for the final time." He began to choke up. "I want her to know that she made the right decision, leaving before giving me a straight answer. Ionna would have never accepted who I've become. My mother... I want to see my mother for the final time, begging for forgiveness for all I've done. A thousand years or more. My life hasn't been a good one. Make my punishment fair. Or... or obliterate my soul so I will never exist again. To atone for all the suffering I've caused."

They sat there for what seemed like the whole night, staring at the slowly dying fire. The entire time, Thanas kept thinking about their final battle. Percy would join them soon. Once he arrived, there was no time for laughter. No time for tears. No time for anything but anger and fury. The end was near for them.

The fire crackled down into a puff of smoke as the sun broke over the horizon and emerged from its slumber. It was almost like a signal, like time was up. The fire of their lives would cease to burn when the Roman army crested the hills.

"Lady Hestia," Leon said in a quiet whisper. He squeezed Xanthe's hand as she stared blankly into the hollow pit. "You're no longer with us. But you stay by Percy, don't you? Keeping track of him wherever he goes. Please... save him, Lady Hestia. When he smiles and has fun, he's more carefree and caring than anyone we've ever seen. When he loves and cares, he's someone you want to trust and give your life to. But he's broken inside. How much longer will you allow the Fates to torture him? Help him. That is my final wish."

The campfire died.

* * *

The Roman legions marched on them as they backed up toward the surf.

"It's not over," Percy told the Trio. He gripped Anaklusmos tightly. "We just need one last burst."

"We know," they chorused, as if they'd rehearsed the line.

Percy stared at them. Their faces were stricken with grief. Xanthe was openly sobbing. While there was a large gash on her left arm, he got the feeling that the pain of the wound wasn't the reason why she was crying. Thanas stared straight ahead, his eyes determined but distant. Leon's smile, normally calming and serene, flickered with uncertainty and doubt.

The Roman legions reformed, recovering from the blow he'd given them.

The pegasi Percy had recruited circled above, darting away from the giant eagles.

"I'll advance." At last, Thanas broke the silence. He turned to Xanthe and Leon and nodded. "Take to the skies Leon. Xanthe, I want you behind me to cover my flanks. Percy... you do whatever you want as long as you stay in Leon's sight and as far away from me as possible."

Percy watched the son of Hades curiously. He hadn't expected Thanas to come up with a plan so quickly. Percy felt a sense of dread bubble in his stomach. He stepped forward and put a hand on Thanas' shoulder. "Are you okay? You sound unsettled."

"I'm... I'm fine..." Thanas avoided eye contact. "Let's go."

Percy didn't like the hesitation. Thanas had something planned, and Percy was sure he wasn't going to like it.

But the other two listened to his orders.

Leon burst up like a hawk. Clouds rolled in overhead and darkened the sky. Lightning flashed and knocked the giant eagles out of the sky with ease. It almost looked like Leon was going all in. Percy felt like he should've been smiling, but all he could do was watch with horror. Leon was using too much power too quickly.

Thanas dissolved into a shadow next to them.

"Let's follow," Xanthe said to Percy, sniffling and wiping her tears. She produced her weapon and began to run toward the Roman ranks.

Percy heard a distant echo, like a battle cry. Staring at the Romans, he realized that the standard bearers had come together and crossed weapons. The Romans let out a battle cry, combining the power of two legions as one. Even from the coastline, Percy could hear the sound of shields locking and the rhythm of their march.

Old memories flashed in his mind. The old battles between Greeks and Romans.

Greek demigods had never really been a match against Romans on an open field. He remembered javelins and spears and swords cutting down Greek demigods like a death machine. They moved in sync, years of military training engrained in the legionaries' bodies and minds. Fighting on an open field was like death row for Greek demigods. They were more likely to turn on one another in the heat of battle than reform ranks.

Percy admired the Romans. That's why he'd eventually joined their army after the Marian reforms. He loved their people, their culture, their honour. But Apollo had to pay. If this was the method, so be it.

By the time he could see Thanas again, Leon had already finished killing all the giant eagles. He sped down like an eagle, hurtling toward the legions' standards. He swooped them up with ease, avoiding the shower of javelins thrown at him. Rising up in the air, he summoned more lightning and blasted the _aquilae_ to dust.

_How...?_ Percy wondered. He didn't expect Leon to be _that_ powerful already.

The legion was thrown into disorder, as the aquilifers panicked.

Thanas emerged in front of the Roman army and drew his sword. Around him, the ground cracked and rumbled. The world around him turned cold and dark. Flowers and plants died as a ripple of darkness grew around him. What seemed like a whole army of undead warriors clawed their way to the surface. Thanas raised his sword and charged at the Romans.

The battle re-ignited.

Xanthe ran forward and joined the fray.

Percy remembered Thanas' warning to stay away from him. He didn't like the thought of that, but his sixth sense told him that it was wise to heed the warning. He turned to the right flank and began to engage the Romans.

With Anaklusmos drawn and Aegis readied, he slammed into the Roman line. He summoned the power of the ocean and tore through them like a storm. He felt like he'd killed a few dozen before an attack finally landed. He shouted in pain as he felt something strike the back of his head.

He knew it was the flat of a blade, but he was surprised when he saw who'd struck him.

Leon flipped him over and raised his knife. Percy, stunned from the first strike, couldn't stop the next. Leon made a shallow cut near his shoulder and spread what looked like poison on the wound. Percy felt his body begin to seize up.

"You..." Percy gasped.

Leon stared at him with swollen, red eyes. "I... I didn't want to do this. But Thanas said I was the only one that could surprise you. I... When we were training for those three years, Xanthe and I made a trip back to where the camp once was. We found her mother's body rotting on the same hill she'd been killed on. Xanthe and I met Hecate, the goddess who gave you those four options when you were exiled. She pointed out that Sophia had sacrificed herself to save her daughter and that we would have to make a decision like that someday. She offered us two vials. One was filled with liquid that would enhance our strength and make us several times more powerful. The other was filled with a gel that would paralyze from the neck down."

"You didn't..."

"Four paths," Leon said. He glanced at the Romans around them. They seemed hesitant to strike, unsure of why he had attacked his own comrade. Leon grabbed Percy, and they shot up into the air. "Four paths, like all crossroads! We could take the path we were currently taking and use neither of the vials. We could choose the path of strength. We could choose the path of paralysis. Or we could use both. We... we chose both. We're ready for this, Percy. Our final stand."

"No, what are you all doing?" Percy demanded. He had realized too late. He should have stopped them when he saw their hesitation. It had seemed like they were bidding farewell. And, in truth, they _were_. "You can't do this! The Twelfth Legion still exists."

"The three of us don't know if this is going to work," Leon admitted as they flew away from the battle, toward the sea. "We don't know if this will have our intended consequences. But it's worth a shot. This chapter, Percy. This chapter must end."

"No..." Percy trailed off.

Thanas unleashed his power. Even from up in the sky, Percy could see the ball of death explode below. Thanas unleashed a wave of power, consuming hundreds of Roman legionnaires in the blast. He could hear the anguished screams of the Romans who'd perished in the blast. Their souls tore apart as the shadows consumed them. They evaporated into mindless ghosts, blown far and wide across the battlefield.

When the dust settled, Percy couldn't see Thanas anymore.

He struggled to remove himself from Leon's grasp. The paralysis worked exactly as Leon described. He could only move his head and neck. Everything below his neck hung loosely, as if his body had died. He could only watch helplessly as they climbed higher and higher into the sky.

When Percy started to have trouble breathing, Leon stopped. The son of Zeus looked down. The ground below them seemed so far away. The Romans dotting the ruined plains looked tinier than ants on the ground.

Leon put something in Percy's pouch and let go, only holding the immortal demigod up using his wind powers. The son of Zeus began to descend.

"I'm sorry, Percy," Leon said with a shaky voice. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. But... but I think this is the only way you'll understand. When everything you've worked so hard for falls apart because it isn't the right path."

"Leon, don't!" Percy pleaded.

They were above the ocean now. Even from this height, Percy knew he wouldn't die if he hit the waters below him. The paralysis was beginning to wear off.

"Goodbye, Percy," Leon choked. "From all of us."

And he let go.

Percy could only watch the battle unravel beneath him. Even as feeling returned to his arms and legs, he could do nothing but flail helplessly like an idiot.

Leon shot down until he was about bird height above the Romans. Then, with another horrible scream, he summoned an enormous blast of lightning. A huge bolt of light shot down from the sky and through the son of Zeus. The energy slammed into the ground, incinerating anyone in its immediate vicinity.

Below him, the sea began to recede. The water's edge moved farther and farther outward. Percy recognized the phenomenon. A tidal wave. Xanthe had summoned a tidal wave. On the ground, trees had fallen and cracks had split the ground. In shock, Percy realized that she'd taken the strength vial and summoned an earthquake and tidal wave to destroy the Romans.

The lightning suddenly faded away. Percy turned to see Leon hanging in the air. But it wasn't really Leon. Charred and blackened, the corpse began to crumble like dust in the wind. The son of Zeus had used up his life energy to summon the lightning. And in the process he'd burned his body to ash.

The closer to the surface he got, the louder Xanthe's scream became. The earth was still trembling underneath her. Far out to sea, he could see a large wave hurtling toward the shore. Xanthe's skin began to steam.

"Stop!" Percy shouted. "You're going to kill yourself!"

But that's exactly what she'd intended. As the wave grew in height, and the last remaining Romans desperately tried to scramble to safety, Xanthe began to evaporate into vapour. She summoned the whole ocean to bend to her will. Not even _he_ had been able to do that when he summoned the Crete quake two hundred years prior.

The wave slammed into the shore and ran up the slope with alarming speed. The fleeing Romans weren't nearly fast enough to avoid the water. It grabbed their legs and pulled them under mercilessly, drowning them in sand, mud and debris.

Percy should have been celebrating. But the surface of the water hit him like a brick wall. Guilt, sorrow and regret flooded his lungs as he blacked out and sank toward the bottom of the sea.


End file.
